Knights and Lords
by AboveReality
Summary: General Hux and his predecessors believed that a strong trooper was born and trained, not created from a tube. Unyielding loyalty was expected from each and every one of them. FN-4026 once harboured such loyalty, until the doubt and guilt took over. Follow her throughout VII and beyond.
1. Prologue

**Short, but a hopefully powerful, prologue. It's an idea that played around my head for a while but I was not sure how to formulate it. This is the short result and will probably continue this.**

 **English is not my mother-language, and I will try to correct and prevent grammatical errors. Though I am only human. Enjoy!**

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Prologue

There she was. After training her entire life, this was it.

Her first mission.

She breathed deeply through her helmet, sweat already trickling down her left temple despite the suit's cooling system, and swallowed thickly. Nerves churned and nestled themselves in her stomach as she stood between the rest of the troopers of her regiment, most of them more experienced and hardened than she. The ship rumbled underneath her feet, despite its own gravitational field that prevented them to be thrown around, she could still feel their descend to the planet.

' _Search and extract._ '

Those simple orders echoed in her head. Search and extract what, she did not know, but she knew that her Captain would. The said individual's voice echoed in her helmet's radio.

"When we land, crush down any sort of resistance," his deep voice resonated. "Round-up the villagers and await further orders."

"Yes sir!" Echoed throughout the ship.

By the time the ship touched the ground, her grip on her rifle was almost painful. The hydraulics hissed like snakes when the doors opened and light flooded inside the dark confinement of the ship's hull, it would have blinded them if not for the helmet's dark visor.

With her blood rushing thickly in her ears she walked down the ramp, stance straight and rigid like the full-fledged trooper that she was. Rounding up the villagers and securing the village's lockdown was an easy enough task. The slaughter that followed wasn't.

The First Order was ruthless. Loyalty and discipline was expected of everyone within its ranks or ties to the Order. Liars and traitors were dealt with accordingly and villages were set as an example for those who harboured such rebellious thoughts. Unforgiven.

With the past hour just a blur in her head, she felt the ship come back to life underneath her feet and once again she was squeezed between the others of her regiment. All stone, cold statues of order and discipline. Each and every one of them stripped from their identity and reduced to just a series of numbers that would stick by them the entirety of their probably short lives.

Dread started to envelop her blood pumping organ and clench down onto it like a vice when the ship started to lift. It caused her breaths to come out in short, shallow rasps only audible in her own ears.

This was her first mission as a Stormtrooper. And she was sure many more would follow.

* * *

"FN-4026."

The deep metallic voice of her Captain caused her to turn around and salute, posture straight. The rest of her regiment marched on, towards the barracks to clean up their rifles and armour. Her captain stared down at her, the black visor of his helmet depthless. He was just a few centimetres taller and she had to slightly tilt her head to meet up his gaze.

"Yes, sir?"

"Follow me."

Without explaining why he turned and marched off, and she followed like it was expected of her. His armour was still the pristine white as it always was, and she almost felt out of place with hers being dirty and containing blood specks here and there, that were a cruel reminder of what happened earlier.

Images of screaming people holding up their arms in a futile attempt to defence themselves of the onslaught of her blaster fire flashed before her eyes. The rifle that she held on to was heated in her memories, smoke coming from the barrel due to the excessive use. Though her helmet could filter smoke, she had still smelled the burning.

After several corridors they halted inside an elevator. Captain punched in a few buttons and the doors closed. A small tremor in the floor indicated that they were moving upwards, towards the command centres. The elevator ride was silent, leaving her to her thoughts.

FN-4026 had never ventured there. Reason number one was that it was unnecessary because her regiment did not operate nor was needed there. Her Captain was not of exceptionally high importance, the regiment was more training focused and held the simplest of tasks. Reason number two was that she would do anything to avoid that place. Kylo Ren and General Hux roamed those halls. Both she had not talked to personally, only observed from afar, but it was enough to put her on edge. Her being did not like the vibe both of them were putting off.

They exited the elevator in an orderly fashion, passing several patrols of Stormtroopers and down some more hallways. The black floor gleaming and reflecting their white suits. Finally they rounded a corner and stopped in front of a door. Her captain pushed a button on the console next to it and with a small ping the door hissed open. He motioned for her to follow inside.

Captain Phasma was a fearsome woman, towering above all with incredible height. Her gleaming chrome armour and black cloak, that was draped over one shoulder, amplified her frightening image. She was known for her brutality, training her own troops hard and demanding but with results. They were one of the best regiments and she took personal orders from Kylo Ren and General Hux themselves. Making them also an important asset to the First Order. And right now, FN-4026 found herself in the company of this notorious captain.

"Ah, Captain Rosco," Captain Phasma started and turned to them. The white light above them reflecting on her armour. "Thank you for bringing unit FN-4026 on such a short notice."

Her captain nodded in response and turned to her. "Captain Phasma, will be your commanding officer from now on," he stated. She regarded her Captain silently for a second, unsure how to react properly. Questions bubbled up inside her, but she did not know how to form them without seeming disobedient.

"Yes, sir. May I ask why?"

"Because I requested for you personally, soldier." It was the only answer that was given on her question. As a good Stormtrooper, FN-4026 accepted it, though a small voice in the back of her mind was still a bit bugged by it. The voice was squelched down easily.

Captain Phasma took a few steps towards them, easily looking down at both of them. FN-4026 felt uncomfortable when the Captain's dark gaze solely set on her.

"Thank you Captain Rosco, you may leave."

Her old captain saluted, turned and marched away. Even without saying goodbye, good luck or any of the sort.

It was another chapter ending of her short life.

She remembered the training runs. He had been unrelenting and drilling most of her regiment to an almost breaking point, holding no expense for the rookies. But after each time she came out stronger than before and with the brief memory a small flicker of pride and respect passed through her.

After Captain Phasma went over what she expected from her as a member of her regiment, she was dismissed. The walk towards the barracks was almost robotic. She unclasped her armour, piece by piece and cleaned it in a precise but in a severely routine motion that was effective and fast. It dulled her thoughts and emotions like she was trained to do.

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	2. Chapter 01

**The dialogue is by memory, so it may not be the exact lines that were said in the movie.**

 **English is not my mother-language. Error may occur, but I will try my best to prevent that. Enjoy!**

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Chapter 01

The Stormtrooper. A powerful and elite militia, known for serving the former glorious Galactic Empire and now the current First Order with fierce loyalty. Some considered them superior of the Clone troopers, others equals, but they were feared nonetheless.

"FN-2003, **MOVE**!"

Her breathing was hard in her ears. Her strides were long, powerful and fast as she ran from cover to cover. Branches scraping across the surface of her armour.

"Flanking!"

"We need covering fire!"

General Hux and his predecessors believed that a strong trooper was born and trained, not created from a tube, and selected very carefully. Families from every planet in First Order space, were monitored and had to follow strict protocol. The families who were deemed to produce promising offspring were visited once a year by an official. If a child showed traits that could lead them to be an excellent trooper they were extracted by the age of 5.

She pressed herself against a thick tree, stilling her heart beat and calming down her breathing in a moment's notice. "Giving covering fire!" She shouted through her radio and leaned out to fire at the heavy repeating blaster, distracting it so that the rest of her team could flank it.

From that age they were trained, not only physically but also mentally. Sacrificing their lives, future and identity to the First Order and their ideals. A Stormtrooper served and fought, they did not think and were taught to leave the wounded behind to keep pressing forward. To keep their barrage of death continuous and ruthless. It was a trait that instilled terror into the hearts of their enemies..

"Well done," Captain Phasma's voice echoed over the radio. "FN-2187, please report to me immediately."

As she and the rest of her team appeared, some talking and some silent, their environment seemed to experience static. There was a flicker and all the trees, under bush and the bunker that they had infiltrated all disappeared, revealing a large metal room devoid of any type of furniture. High above there was an observation window, where Captain Phasma stood observingly.

Their team leader, FN-2187, hurried towards the blast doors, leaving them open as he rounded the corner to report to their captain.

It had been hard for FN-4026 to let go of the visions of the village the first weeks. They'd plagued her mind each time she closed her eyes to sleep or when she was daydreaming when marching. Eventually the images turned into blurs and disappeared all-together. She no longer felt emotions when thinking back about it. It had been her duty to the First Order to execute them.

"And Slip is once again saved by his hero!" A mean voice drawled from next to her.

A lone trooper with his suit unusually battered and smeared with dirt almost scowled, as much as he could portray his body language in the white armour. "Shut up!" He sneered back.

It was now several months that FN-4026 was serving under Captain Phasma. The Captain lived up to her reputation of being a pain, but despite the challenge she felt more in shape and capable of her abilities than she had ever felt under Captain Rosco's reign. It showed on the field and the effectiveness she completed missions with some of the seniors on her team. Thankfully it was most of the time patrolling or investigating on the nearby planets, but her sharp wit had earned the First Order a few extra Rebel prisoners for 'questioning'.

FN-4026 thanked the greater powers out there that it wasn't her job to do that.

But the team dynamics were different than her former. Less silent and more prone to banter than she personally liked. It made them stronger as a whole due to the bond with each other, but the risk of knowing a person came with the price of developing outcasts. Like poor Slip.

Slip, or FN-2003, was not the ideal Stormtrooper. He was loyal, yes, proved himself to be an exceptional infiltrator with his knowledge about hacking and decoding all sort of droids, consoles and weapons. But he was poorly skilled with a blaster and not particularly smart in the midst of a battlefield. Resulting into him being a target and when he did not do his techno magic, he was more a liability than an asset. As a tease and mockery, some of the troopers started to call him Slip, short of slip-up. Unfortunately for him, the name stuck.

"Hey, lay off. He's getting better. Eighty-seven only needed to save him once this time," she countered.

Forty-two, the one that made a comment about Slip, shrugged a 'whatever' and moved on. The rest of her team ignored them as they retreated to their barracks. FN-4026 slowed her stride so that Slip could tag along with her at the back.

"Thanks," he said genuinely.

"You're welcome, Oh-three. But you need to be careful and step up your game. This may be a training simulator, but one day you are going to be out there and then it's real blaster fire," she began to scold but then sighed, easing off on him.

"I know," FN-2003 replied. "I'll try."

In the barracks, FN-4026 dislodged her helmet. Sweat was pouring down her face and the coolness of the air was a delight on her skin.

"They need to fix those cooling systems, it drives me crazy," she huffed in annoyance as she unclasped her armour piece by piece.

"You drive me crazy," Thirty-six replied. His grey eyes taking her in. His comment earned him a hard punch to the shoulder that would seem playful, but there was also a warning in it.

"Careful, Thirty-six. Do not underestimate women, especially not Twenty-six. She will sooner bite your head off instead of sucking on it," another one replied with amusement. It earned some laughter and she could not help but to join in with a chuckle, though it was not really genuine.

She unleashed her blond hair from its tight bun and grabbed the black uniform they wore when they were relieved from duty and performing other tasks on the Starkiller base. The isolated shower that followed after was heaven to her muscles. After a quick lunch, her duties in the armoury required her attention for the rest of the day; cleaning, inspecting, counting and improving their supply of blaster pistols, rifles and other sorts.

The next following days they continued training, each time the simulator changed the environment. So far they had trained into ice, swamps, forests and mountains. Eighty-seven had stopped actively helping Slip, but she noticed that if he came into trouble he managed to distract the enemy long enough for Slip to go into cover. Judging by the banter between the two, they were friends.

The revelation made her reflect herself. In all of her life she did not have the luxury to develop friendships, being a naturally reserved individual. It wasn't encouraged, but those who did develop bonds were not discouraged either, yet seeing it so open and publically made her uncomfortable.

But now after two weeks, they had been training in the desert several times in a row. In sandstorms, the heat of the day and in the coolness of nightfall, but always in the desert. FN-2046 could not help but wonder why they had stopped cycling through the different simulations and even asked Captain Phasma, but of course her commanding officer would not tell. She was merely told not to question and just do it; just train. And FN-4026 did, like the good trooper she was.

* * *

Sooner than she knew she was once again standing inside the hull of a ship, the lights flickering to life, revealing the rest of her motionless regiment like pale white ghost. The white artificial light casted sharp shadows that would've been frightening to her if she was not part of it.

Captain Phasma was not present with them, travelling with Kylo Ren on a different ship as part of his personal guard. Her absence gave room for rebellious thoughts of why she wondered they were deployed on Jakku; a barren planet with only sand, rocks and a handful of settlements. Those who lived here either wanted to disappear from the rest of the galaxy or were stuck.

 _'Search and extract,'_ were once again the simple orders giving. The three simple words giving rise to nasty images she thought she'd oppressed. A woman, screaming and hugging the face of her child to her chest so that it would not see the blaster fire that it would end its short life.

FN-4026 took a deep breath, steeling herself and stared hard at the back of her predecessor's helmet. The ship touched down onto ground and she held her blaster rifle into an iron grip when the hydraulics hissed and the loading ramp was lowered. Instantly there was blaster fire and they ran out of the ship, taking cover immediately.

Her predecessor, Thirty-six, was lying dead in the sand a few meters away from her position. FN-4026 swallowed hard and fired from her cover, her aim true and precise with the result of killing a few of those who were shooting at them.

She had no time to think about it as she jumped from cover to cover, giving occasional covering fire and almost tripping over the dead that littered across the battlefield with her heart beating in her ears. Trooper and villager alike.

But Stormtroopers were trained to push and they were in far greater numbers. In a mere minute the village was overrun, those who surrendered were rounded up like cattle and those who did not shot as an example. A chill settled over her spine when she spotted Kylo Ren, marching towards the supposedly village elder. Her Captain following him closely behind. A dark ominous feeling settled in her guts.

"Where is it?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about," the elder bit back.

"I know you have it. Give it to me and you and the rest of your village will be spared." The deep voice of Kylo Ren resonated. Drowning out the whimpers of the scared.

"You cannot deny what you are, deep inside," the village elder called out, ignoring the subject. "There are more important things like this, things like _family_."

There was an exchange of words and then that brutal roaring sound of the red lightsabre haunted her ears. She witnessed its raw power as he sliced through the man like he was butter in a clean swipe. The troopers that had been restraining the man were forced to take a huge step back.

"NO!"

Before anyone could react there was the sound of blaster fire, but with just a gesture from the Force-user it stopped in mid-air. On instinct she rushed with another trooper towards the man, who was in turn incapacitated by Kylo Ren's use of the Force. Her fellow trooper punched him in the guts before they forced his hands on his back and hauled him forwards.

A kick to the leg and pressure on his shoulders violently forced the man in a kneeling position in the sand in front of Lord Ren, amidst the remains of the elder. Being this close to the Force-user made FN-4026's skin crawl. If it weren't for her discipline she would have leant back and away from him. Something in her very being repelled him.

"Who's this?" Kylo Ren drawled slowly. He made the same gesture with his hand earlier and the man shuddered beneath her hold. FN-4026 felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

"A Rebel," the Force-user muttered underneath his breath as if he was distracted by something. "You are here for the same purpose.."

"I won't tell you anything!" The man rebuked, struggling a bit underneath her hands. Her fellow trooper applied more pressure on the shoulder joint, earning a gasp of pain.

"No need," Kylo Ren almost chuckled. "I will get it eventually out of you. Take him away!"

Hauling the man on his feet and not waiting until he regained his balance, FN-4026 and the other trooper dragged him toward Kylo Ren's ship, where several other Stormtroopers awaited them.

"Execute them," was Captain Phasma's command. "Leave none alive."

"NO! **NO!** " The man roared, struggling heavily in their hold. He nearly managed to break free if it weren't for the rest restraining him and putting on hand cuffs. Dragging him harshly away into the deep confines of the ship.

FN-4026 had to let him go, and stood numb on the loading ramp. The screaming behind her was deafening and crippling her. In one tidal wave of blaster fire her nightmares that had plagued her were back, except now she wasn't asleep. This was the truly frightening and terrorizing reality.

The man's words echoed in her head, but instead of his voice it was hers. Desperate and panicking, but not out loud. When the blaster fire finally stopped and the screams were silent, she turned around against her better judgement. The sight of the village engulfed in flames burned itself unforgiven on her retina.

This was the life she faced as a Stormtrooper.

* * *

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	3. Chapter 02

**A thank you to those who took the time to post a review and click on the Follow or Favorite button. Happy New Year!**

 **English is not my mother-language. Errors may occur, but I will try to prevent that. Enjoy!  
**

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Chapter 02

Some troopers had been re-evaluated the day after. Like FN-4026.

Re-evaluation meant that they were turned inside out figuratively speaking. Mind and body. She had never been in re-evaluation and hoped she would never will be again. It was tedious, but strict and any slip-up categorized and dealt with. Apparently a miracle had happened and after a few short sessions with a psychiatrist she was released back to duty. She had not uttered a word about her inner turmoil or nightmares and her service record give them no other reason to question her.

FN-4026 had then been given the task, along with her colleagues in the armoury, to inspect the blaster rifles of every soldier present that day. It was a tedious task, taking up several days and usually being at work dulled her mind.

This time it failed to do so.

Doubt had planted a seed in her head and as time passed it had begun to grow. Slowly and steadily, but growing nonetheless. Her doubt increased when she had her team leader's rifle in her hand and the computer told her that he had not been firing that day.

 _'Why?'_

What was she supposed to do? Other than to manipulate the results so that people would think that he _did_ fire that day? All of her training and ideals thrown in the wind to cover up FN-2187.

But why did she do it in the first place?

Captain Phasma had been an unmoving force that day and the days after, and FN-4026 was unsure to feel inspired or disturbed by that. After the inspection of the rifles her duties were mainly patrolling the corridors and training with her team. Both brushed her the wrong way.

Her team dynamics had changed, turning more brutal in their sessions despite the several losses they had suffered. There was no room nor need for mourning for Thirty-six and Slip. FN-2187 was also more absent than he was present and each time she spotted him a sudden urge to walk up to him and talk to him bubbled up. Not as soldiers but as equals.

She needed to share her demons, but was also afraid to do so.

"FN-4026."

"Yes sir?"

She saluted to her Captain who looked down at her. FN-4026 could not pass the fact that she always felt scolded in Captain Phasma's present and that the woman possessed somehow the ability to look past her helmet and being straight into her soul. It made her very uncomfortable and on edge.

"Lord Ren wishes to speak with us, follow me."

Numerous of thoughts of why he wanted to speak with her, a simple Stormtrooper, rushed through her in a single's notice. But she managed to contain herself when marching behind her superior officer. Patrols and officers alike halted in their duties to salute to Captain Phasma and made FN-4026 wonder why she hadn't noticed her Captain's importance before.

The longer the walk through the many hallways, the smaller she began to feel. Until her sense of self was demoted to the size of a mere field mice by the time they reached the command centre of the Finalizer, the ship that they now served on and was stationed near Jakku.

Rows of imperial officers behind computers were on either side of them, working undisturbed, as they walked to the two figures clad in black staring out of the window into the black abyss that was littered with tiny pinpricks that supposed to be stars, light years away. One was straight, like he was pulled taught from the crown of his head upwards. The other was more slouched, but the mood and power that was rolling off of him in waves made the sense of foreboding settle in her guts.

She really felt out of place.

General Hux turned around, greeting Captain Phasma with a nod and her with a fixed stare that made FN-4026 feel really out of place. The skin crawling sensation she had felt earlier when Lord Ren used the force on the Rebel was back, making her clench her rifle in her hands.

"You called for us, my lord?" Captain Phasma said as if she was not affected. It was odd for her to hear her Captain speak with such reverence to someone.

Lord Ren turned around to face them, his mask just as terrifying as his being, and the crawling sensation intensified, making the hairs on her skin stand on end. FN-4026 instinctual blanked her mind, trying to filter out the doubt, questions and emotions like she was taught to from an early age.

"Yes, I did."

He started to walk and FN-4026 automatically stepped back and aside to let him through, but he stopped just in front of her. Closer than it was comfortable. Her eyes searched the black void less gap in his mask to search for his own, but only met darkness. She swallowed thickly and sweat trickled down her brow, thankful that the helmet covered her pale face.

"You were there on Jakku, at the village," he stated.

"Yes sir," she managed to utter out. Willing her vocal cords to work. A strange type of etching, and pulling sensation settled in the back of her head. It was almost painful and she wanted to reach out and press her hand to it, the hesitation visible when she released on hand of her rifle but thought better of it and placed it back down.

"You helped to take the prisoner and he did not seem to react as violently to you as you squad mate," he recalled and suddenly jumped to another subject. "I've heard from Captain Phasma that you are the one responsible to hand over a few other Rebels that let us to Jakku?"

"Yes, sir."

There was a pause. Captain Phasma was the powerful beacon next to her that helped her anchor, but the pain in the back of her head increased. General Hux stood back, watching, but with a scornful look on his face as if her wasn't happy what was currently happening.

Images of her training missions flashed before her eyes in an alarming rate, like a speeder on a collision course. Her real missions then came, her first mission and then the last. The image stayed on the burning village and screaming of men, women and children filled her ear. It flickered to the one where she altered the reading's on her team leaders rifle.

Just before she wanted to gasp and step back, suddenly all pain was gone and so were the images and the real world came to her senses. FN-4026 was sweating profusely in her suit and her breathing came out in sharp gasps. She was too tired and exhausted of what happened to really contain herself and would've collapsed if not for her locking her knees to keep standing.

' _They know, they know._ ' It echoed.

"You'll be interrogating and torturing the prisoner. Starting today," Lord Ren said. His words almost drowned out by the sense of despair that was washing over her. Captain Phasma stood silently watching.

"You'll be reporting to me in a daily basis, personally. Understood?"

Like a good Stormtrooper she saluted, though it cost her almost all of her strength to do it properly. "Understood, Lord Ren."

* * *

"This is will shock him, this will increase the intensity. Over there in the corner there are some other.. _tools_ that can help you interrogate him."

"You mean torture devices?"

FN-4026 looked up to Forty-two, once of the troopers in her squad, giving him a pointed look. She could see his jaw clench. Forty-two's job outside of training was doing his duties around the cellblocks and interrogation rooms. He seemed just the type.

His method was brutal on the battlefield. _'Kill them first before they kill you, and if they hurt you kill them slower,'_ was sort of his motto during combat. He was a killing machine, once of Captain Phasma's best in FN-4026's opinion and she would never want to be on his receiving end. But even if his reputation was being a heartless son of a bitch something inside her still revolted against him. Making the tone in her voice sharp.

Forty-two adjusted his helmet that he held with one arm against his side. His nostrils flared and his dark eyes blazed in response of her defying intonation.

"What are you saying, soldier?" Was his curt response.

"I was merely asking a question.." she countered. Feeling a bit amused due to his bristled demeanour.

"There are simply _tools_ that can _assist_ you with interrogating, Twenty-six. Good luck."

Before she could respond he had turned around and walked away, placing his helmet back on his head. She watched his retreating back, waves of anger rolling off of him.

There was a first time for everything. First time to walk, talk, hold a weapon and fire it. Most of it came to her natural right now, but now she was going to 'interrogate' someone for the first time and deep inside she was afraid that this would come natural to her too. She didn't want it to be, but orders were orders. She had to know where the map was that Lord Ren wanted, more details weren't given.

After fastening her helmet, as if that would make her less human for the task that needed to be done she exited the empty room that Forty-six had showed her. Explaining the how's, why's and giving her tips and tricks that made her feel nauseous by the thought of it.

 _'They know of your doubt, you need to prove your loyalty now. This is just another test,'_ her inner voice whispered. Trying to bolster up the courage to open the blast door that separated her from the prisoner. The Rebel that was still screaming 'NO!' inside her nightmares.

Before letting her nerves take control she punched in the button and the door hissed open like the multi-headed Hydra of Lerna. The sight of him strapped down tight made her breathe heavily through her nostrils in order to supress the vivid imagery of flames when she walked inside. A small flicker of pride coursed through her when she succeeded, and that in turn bolstered up her confidence that she could do it.

The Rebel lifted his head as best as he could and his dark brown eyes narrowed with venom when he took her in. There was hate in his gaze, but also resilience and a sharp mind. FN-4026 had to play this smart and walked over to a side table, placing down her rifle and making it look as if she ignored him and rummaged through some drawers, as if to appear looking for something. Finally he took the bait.

"What do you tin-heads want now?"

She still ignored him.

"HEY! I'm talking to you."

In silence she walked over to him, taking him in. He was tall, seemed to be in his early thirties judging by the wrinkles in his face. His brown hair almost seemed black in the pale white light. Overall a fairly-looking male specimen, but not exceptional. Despite being strapped down to the 45 degree angled table, he oozed strength. Not only in body but also in mind. She remembered his desperate struggle underneath her hands like it was yesterday.

"What's your name?" She asked softly.

Her question and calm voice almost threw him off-balance, but the man recovered quickly and huffed. "I did not know that they also recruited women aside from the garbage can."

She knew he referred to Captain Phasma and that he was trying to goat her, but she did not reply on it. Instead she countered back.

"Must have been a real upturn in your career, watching all of those people die just for you. Did you hear their screams? Echoing in the night as the flames slowly started to consume those who did not perish directly by blaster fire?"

It was blow straight to the heart. FN-4026 knew it, she saw it in the way the fire in his eyes seemed to dim a bit and hated it, but she had to do it. Orders were orders.

"Think about how much pain they must've been in. Think about how much pain others will be in if you do not tell us everything," she said and walked towards the blaster door, opening it with one press of a button. It took all over her willpower not to break into a run, away from those haunting brown eyes.

"I don't know how you can live with yourself," and with those words said she walked away.

Her pace growing more hurried after each stride before she eventually duck into an empty room and closed the doors. FN-4026 threw off her helmet to the ground and placed her face into her hands.

* * *

After a few days she was once again standing in front of the Rebel. He had defied her, day after day and she had no results to show Lord Ren. FN-4026 was becoming more desperate after time passed but she still refused to use those 'tools' that Forty-six had explained and reminded her whenever he could. As if he wanted her to lose that shred of humanity she still had left in her.

Now her right fist was aching despite the knuckle protectors and a bruise was forming rapidly on his jaw. She had hit him just a moment before after seeing no other option, but he still had that same fire in his eyes that the promise of future pain would not extinguish. She admired his strong beliefs, but that wouldn't help him nor her.

"This can all be over if you give us the map."

"Never."

She let out a deep shivering breath and turned her back to him and her face to the wall. The moment she had hit him everything inside of her had recoiled, shouting 'NO!' in an epic chorus. The realization of meeting a dead end, whether figuratively or literally almost made her tear up with fear of Lord Ren and the consequences of her failure.

' _I can't do this._ '

"Why are you doing this?"

With force FN-4026 swallowed down the lump that was forming in her throat so that she could speak.

"What?" Came out her voice in a sneer. Hopefully giving him the idea that she had turned around to try and contain herself from hitting him again, instead of breaking down in a panic.

"Being someone that you aren't."

FN-4026 didn't react to that, because she couldn't and because the door opened with a hiss. She immediately tensed and saluted Kylo Ren, who almost glide in being the dark slouched shape that he way. Instantly a sense of fear curled around her heart at the sight of his being. His dark mask turned to her.

"And?" Were his only words.

Slowly she shook her head. "Nothing, Lord Ren."

He kept looking at her as if he needed to process her words, but she felt that familiar scratch in the back of her skull and almost took a step back, knowing what that feeling meant. The sensation disappeared when she heard him slightly chuckling and turned his gaze to the rebel.

"The Resistance.. will not be intimidated by you," the prisoner snapped at him. Lord Ren merely continued to chuckle before his tone turned dark.

"Oh, they will be. But first; where is the map?"

"I will never tell you!"

Lord Ren raised his hand slowly and the Rebel gasped, FN-4026 flinched. Knowing exactly how that sensation felt. Her entire being wanted to flee and not bear witness to the pain, but she wasn't ordered to leave yet and thus she didn't.

"Perhaps not now, but you will later."

The Rebel's roar was wrenching as the onslaught on his mind was continuous and judging by his spasming the worst that he had ever encountered. FN-4026 could not look at it, her gaze focused on the floor in front of her feet but as the torturing continued she felt something rise inside of her.

A flame of anger, brief but present and white-hot for a flash. He was going on for too far and too long. On impulse she stepped forward, her voice acute when mentioning her lord's name. That flame was snuffed out the moment Kylo Ren's gaze snapped to her. She had a hard time concentrating with the Rebel's groaning in the background, but managed.

"He won't be of any use to you, my lord, if his mind is broken," she hastily fashioned a reason of her sudden outburst of insubordination.

The Rebel screamed again when Lord Ren focused on him once more. When she thought that he had ignored her suggestion, Lord Ren had already lowered his hand and the screaming stopped. The man was panting, sweat pouring off of him and all life and fire seemed to have drained out of him. FN-4026 did not know what to find more disturbing; Kylo Ren's power and what she had felt was only the surface, or the man that seemed unbreakable to her was now a mere shell of his former resilient self.

"A BB unit," he then moaned. Clearly crippled by pain. "The map is with an astromech droid. White and orange of colour."

* * *

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	4. Chapter 03

**A short one, but it seemed appropiate to end it there. Next one will be longer. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 03

FN-4026 was staring up at the ceiling from her bunkbed. Fatigue was eating away at her and she felt closer to crying than laughter, but sleep would only come a few minutes at a time. A short blissful daze before the nightmares would come and take over, jolting her awake.

The feeling of being monitored 24 hours didn't help either.

But even though she preferred sleep, she had now a couple of hours to herself to think. Without fear or percussions, without someone to interrupt her. A thing she hadn't thought of for a long time was her life before all this. Before the First Order _became_ her life.

A result of being extracted at the age of five was that she could not remember a lot, at least not images but feelings. Emotions that she had experienced, such as the feeling of being nurtured by her mother whenever she was afraid. Or curiosity taking over the fear for an unknown thing. The warm feeling that bloomed inside of her when hugging one of her parents..

' _I need to leave here._ '

The thought was as abrupt as a lightning strike, but it made sense. Why stay here, if all she was doing here was to make people suffer, where in turn she suffered from herself?

Because all of this was all she had ever known.

FN-4026 had no idea of how to start _living_ for herself, for she had always lived and breathed for the First Order. She had no idea of what was out there, aside from the missions she had been on, but that was like looking at a vid. Seeing it, but not _being_ it.

But one could only learn to swim by being in the water.

With determination she climbed out of bed and dressed in her armour. That way she could just blend in if there were any problems.

FN-4026 stared at herself in the mirror, a pale-faced girl with blue eyes that were surrounded by faint dark circles of sleep deprivation was staring back at her. Big and frightened, but with a defiant glint in them. Blond hair combed back in a tight bun on the back of her head. With a few deep breaths she steeled herself and put on her helmet.

* * *

Rows and rows of doors like hers mirrored each other, on each door a series of numbers that were tied to the serial number of the troopers sleeping there. So you wouldn't have to change the numbers on the doors when someone died.

With a hurried stride she crossed the dark and abandoned hallway and turned left, knowing which were the shortest series of corridors to her destination. Her leather boots thumping on the dark marble floor, not even squeaking.

She passed a few Stormtroopers in their combat gear, but of their serial numbers not the one she was looking for and nodded automatically when they nodded at her too. It was a sign of acknowledging their fellow trooper sharing the same burdens. She wondered if those she encountered would ever become her enemies. What if she one day had to fight her own regiment?

With a shudder she tried to cast away those dark thoughts, but her nerves played their part when the numbers on the doors reached into the 1200's. She spotted several numbers of what she knew belonged to her squad mates, but that was just a though at the back of her mind. Then, suddenly, she reached the door she needed to be.

 **1279**

Her black covered knuckles rapped on the door and she waited. Her feet slight apart and her hands clasped behind her back in a comfortable resting position. After knocking another time she huffed, he wasn't there, according his duty roster he should be.

Deciding to go looking for him, she strode away and took the elevator down. Her nervousness turning into agitation.

The Finalizer star destroyer was never quiet. It was alive for 24 standard hours, people only sleeping and eating when they had to during the designated times that were scheduled into their rosters. Everyone was doing their duty within the time they were given. FN-4026 had never gone outside her roster, and felt something akin to a fish out of the water walking past several platoons of fellow Stormtroopers. She was out of her comfort zone.

Suddenly something in her peripheral vision caught her eye. She turned and stared right into the faces of FN-2187 and the Rebel.

"Wh-"

Her voice failed her when she was pulled into the narrow maintenance alley and pressed against the wall before she could even react. Her rifle was torn from her grasp and the end of the nuzzle presented itself between her eyes.

"Don't say a word.." was the Rebel's warning with clenched teeth.

"Or else?" FN-4026 finished with the same vigour, but her voice soft and whispering.

"Hey easy," Eighty-seven hushed and pushed the barrel away from her face. She could not help but to let out a breath of relief. He turned his dark eyes to her and looked up and down. "Eighty-seven, what are you doing here?"

"Trying to find you," she muttered and stared at him from underneath her helmet. Ignoring the deathglares she received from the Rebel. "What are _you_ doing here, with _him_?" She spared the Rebel a glare, and though he could see, it also showed in her voice. "And why aren't you wearing your helmet?"

Eigthy-seven and the Rebel shared a glance, there was hesitation in both faces. It sudden dawned on her; they were escaping this forsaken place. A flicker of panic accompanied the thought.

' _Were they leaving without me?_ '

"I want to go with you," she said.

"No, no, you can't-" Eighty-seven immediately replied, trying to stay hushed but his emotions made his voice flare.

"Yes, I can and I will. I-" she paused, sighing and looking down at her feet. "I need to. I can't do this anymore, I can't live like this for the rest of my life."

"Do you know how we can get off of this station?"

She looked up into the Rebel's eyes, a stranger to her and she to him, yet he was looking at her determined and asking her practically to help them. Twenty-six wondered if he knew she was the one who had tortured him.

Steeling her resolve and quenching her thoughts, she nodded. Deciding it was time for action.

"Yes."

* * *

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	5. Chapter 04

**Told you this one was going to be longer ;) Ripley's number (FN-4026) was a reference of LV-426. Because I really wanted to name her Ripley.. Blame Alien: Isolation for this.  
**

 **English is not my mother-language, so errors may occur. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 04

 _She was standing in the middle of a bridge, the stone of it cold underneath her bare feet. Above her the great void of space gleamed with pin prick lights of stars, devoid of any other sort of light sources, but her surroundings were as visible as if she was standing beneath the three majestic full moons of Tatooine._

 _Without even looking over the edge of the wall-less bridge she knew that a chasm awaited beneath. Though she could see in front and around her, both ends were engulfed in thick mist. Conjuring the illusion that the bridge was suspending._

 _One by one, the stars above her died without even a flicker. Tedious, but alarming and with each vanishing speck of light, her vision decreased. Inch by inch the darkness closed in, seeping into her pours and figuratively curling around her being, her very soul._

 _A primal instinct awakened in her as she stood there on the bridge, getting slowly engulfed by an inky blackness. It flickered like a small candle but in blink it roared like the surface of a sun, so powerful that it was mentally and physically crippling._

 _Fear._

* * *

FN-4026 awoke with a gasp and instantly coughed due to the sand invading her mouth with the bare hints of air. With a start she shot up, her body itself ignoring the flare of pain as it worked out the sand and take the desperately needed oxygen.

When she was able to breathe clearly, she brushed the sharp particles out of her eyes and blinked against the sun, forcing them to open and take in her surroundings even if the brightness was hurting her retina.

Images flashed before her. She remembered being cramped in a two-seated tie fighter whilst they were with three. She remembered the triumph of escape that soared in her blood, but then the despair of crashing down with unfathomable speeds, after that there was nothing. Somehow her helmet was removed with the fall.

Finally able to clearly see she look around, seeing nothing but oceans of sand. Her gut was staying in her feet when she started to rise, breaths coming out in short exasperated gasps and sweat poured out of every pore on her body partially due to the heat, and partially due to the realization settling in.

She was utterly alone.

"No.." she managed to croak out, her legs almost faltering. ' _After all of.. it can't end like this._ '

Before the terror settled in, the blast of something crashing captured her attention. Head snapping left she squinted against the intense sun, but noticed smoke twirling up in the air from behind a dune. Without thinking she took her first step, almost losing balance in the thick sand, but a determination settled inside of her as she took another step, and another.

 _'Poe.. Finn..'_

Just when she finally had a real name, when she was finally considered a _person_ instead of a number.. They could not die like this. She was going to save them and they were getting off of this forsaken rock and go to the resistance and kick the First Order's ass.

After what felt like an eternity of ploughing through the heavy sand she reached the top of the dune. A part of the tie-fighter had buried itself in the sand and someone crawled out of it, behaving in a mannerism of a wounded being.

FN-4026 leaned back and skidded down the large dune, it being so large that it blocked the sun and let the base and the crash site being enveloped in the shade which was surprisingly chilly. As she closed in a mop of messy dark hair instantly identified the being and she jumped the finally meter, hurrying towards the man.

"Poe!"

Pained dark brown eyes looked up at her, there was surprise but also recognition and pain them. As Twenty-six rushed to him, she kept shot the wreckage he crawled out of a wary eye, but it was of no threat of exploding. It was part of a wing and a part of his seat. Finn was no-where to be seen, he likely got flung out like her.  
"Ripley," he groaned. Her given name still sounding odd. "My arm hurts." Like her helmet, he had somehow lost his brown-red jacket and she kneeled in front of the wounded, dark cladded man.

Her blue eyes flicked down to his left arm, blood coated it. The source of where it came from was his upper arm. A large piece of metal protruding out of it. Likely, some part of the tie-fighter. She did not forget to breath or act as she unfasted her gauntlets and braces. Memories of practicing First-Aid on the field with her regiment popped up inside her head.

"I'm here," she said. Her voice clear of any sign of distress or even emotion, whilst her fingers trembled as she pulled off her black gloves that she wore underneath the gauntlets. She manoeuvred him against the wreckage he had crawled out of so that he could lean against it. His features were ashen due to the pain and contorted into a grimace.

"A large piece of metal has decided to snog your arm," she said and sighed, trying to quench down the nerves that made her hands twitch. "We need to remove it."

Grasping her sleeve tightly, she tore it with the other hand, fabric ripping easily and baring her forearm. Somehow she managed to take it all off and rip it in such a way that it would function as a tourniquet.

Poe chuckled, but it was half-hearted and obviously laced with pain. "Lucky me. Just now I was becoming acquainted with it." Sarcasm dripped from his voice, making the corner of her lip turn upwards a bit. It eased the tension of the situation a bit. He winced with she tied the pieces of fabric just above the wound and pulled it tight so that it would function accordingly. But being the hardened man that he was, he did not move an inch.

Just like the time she was supposed to 'interrogate' him.

"Well, it has to be spoken to sternly," Ripley muttered and sat a little closer in a crouched position. Her left hand, the skin of it pale due to lack of sunlight and complexion, grasped his left shoulder and pressed it, and thus Poe himself, back against the wreckage, bracing him.

"I will need to work fast, because I do not know if it had hit any arteries.. This will hurt a lot, but you can't flinch. It has to come out as straight as it had come in," she said. A frown had etched its way on her features, causing her forehead to wrinkle.

Poe did not say anything and nodded. She felt him tense underneath her hand, he was mentally and physically bracing himself. Without wasting another breath, the fingers of her right hand clasped around the metal, all of the tremors from earlier having disappeared, and pulled as quickly as she could.

The Rebel gasped before clenching his jaw. Ripley pressing her hand against the wound as her left hand released his shoulder and slightly loosened the make-shift tourniquet so that it would be able to be tucked down and over the wound. It wasn't big, but bleeding quite profusely.

After tying it tightly, she kept adding pressure and relaxed the rest of her body, letting her head drop a bit and closing her eyes. She did not want to focus on the blood and how sharp of a contrast it was to her skin, or how desperate their situation was as she waited for the bleeding to stop. Instead she listened to her breathing and that of Poe, that was slowly growing even and without the short stops and hitches of pain.

"You okay?" She asked finally, her voice strange in her own ears. Poe nodded, replying a strained 'yes'.

Carefully she released her grip, ignoring the muscle cramp and watched as the tightly wrapped fabric of her shirt remained dry. Looks like they managed..

She turned and settled beside him, her back against the cool metal and watched ahead of them. This was likely one of the rare spots of shade across this whole desert and the roof of her mouth was already getting a bit tacky from lack of moisture.

' _How are we going to do this?_ '

Her eyes shot to her right, and noticed that the ashen colour in Poe's face had vanished. Ripley also saw that he looked pretty battered, a few scrapes and bruises here and there. She doubted that she looked any better. Apparently feeling her stare, his brown eyes met hers.

"You know, if it weren't for your voice I would have never thought it was you.."

Ripley looked at Poe and then away to her feet outstretched before her. "Yeah, I somehow lost my helmet. Perhaps a good thing, we aren't exactly popular.." she sighed and started to unstrap her breastplate and the rest of her Stormtrooper armour. Beneath it she wore all black; a two-part suit that was almost seamless, like every other trooper wore. It was tight, but not provokingly so.

Poe had paused, looking at her. He was thinking but did not voice his thoughts, only saying; "Yeah, I guess so," before glancing away.

* * *

Receiving an inquiry of wisdom they had decided to travel at night, but the trek was difficult nonetheless. Already parched they stumbled across the desert dunes. Poe was now feeling the effects of his wound and blood-loss and that did not make any thing easier.

They had to forcibly rest, and more repeatedly as time progressed and they grew more tired. Having no shade they had decided to keep walking during the day. At one time Ripley had praised her suit, it was able to keep her warm on the surface of the Starkiller Base, now she cursed it for being black and too warm.

At one point Poe could not walk alone anymore and had to be supported. They managed to continue like this for a day, but when they couldn't even sweat anymore things started to look really grim. Poe was ailing, murmuring incoherent words at some moments and silent the next. Finally after conquering a particular big dune he collapsed and dragged her with him into the scorching hot sand.

Ripley groaned, trying to stand up but her legs were unresponsive. She then grabbed for Poe and tugged at him weakly, he said nothing and was limp. "Poe.. we need to move.." she croaked, her voice barely a whisper. He did not respond.

"Poe.." she breathed and collapsed completely.

They laid there for a while, as sacrifices for the blazing sun above them and a haziness creeping in. Her mind was muddled, thoughts unable to erupt from a thick syrup that was her cooked brain. At one point she opened her eyes again, unable to response to the irritation of the sand between her lashes.

In the distance she could see shapes form. They were dark, solidifying and turning into smoke and liquid at the same time. They closed in, and the mind of an ailing and dying woman could not process the voices that her ears picked up as she let her head drop again in the sand. Finally something stopped in front of her judging by the shifting sand beneath her, the whisper of a touch grazing against her cheek and sound above her erupted. A shout; short and quick.

Then darkness completely enveloped her in a hot strangling hug.

* * *

Ripley woke at the sensation of something cold and wet dragging across her face, it made the hairs on her arms stand on end. She blinked with a groan, trying to open her eyelids and the dragging of the cold wet thing paused.

Then suddenly it cold bliss was gone, the sound of wet dropping on a hard stone floor and quick padding of small feet echoed away from her. With effort she managed to crack her eyes open and stared at stone white ceiling. It was cracked here and there and not that high, and that in combination with the cool temperature Ripley guessed that they were somewhere underground or partially. There was just no other place where it would be almost chilly here on Jakku.

With less effort than it was opening her eyes she managed throw her weight around, resulting in throwing her legs on the edge of whatever she was lying on and managing to sit up straight. The motion made her head hurt, but she let it be for what it was and glanced ahead when heavy footfalls approached her.

"I see that you have woken."

A man, dressed in simple brown and white robes approached her. He had short trimmed hair, but his lower face sported a thick beard. His face seemed kind, obviously tanned with here and there white lines because of his wrinkles, but his grey eyes were looking at her in a curious but stern way. She gave him a similar look. He sat down on the stool in front of her bed. Next to it was a bucket of water, a wet rag on the stone floor next to that.

He picked up the rag, rinsed it in the bucket and draped it over the edge. After handing her a cup of water the stranger folded his hands and looked at her with those curiously stern eyes. He watched her greedily gulp it all up, enjoying how the wetness soothed her dry throat.

"How are you feeling?"

Ripley mulled over his question for a second, twirling the cup in her hands. She felt drained, but it a different kind than before in the desert. More hunger-based.

"Better," she decided to reply and took in the man's demeanour. He seemed to be reaching his fifties. "Where am I? Who are-?" She stopped when he held up one hand in a halting motion.

"I should've guessed that you have a lot of questions, but wouldn't it be nice to ask them whilst enjoying food?" Her stomach growled in response and the man smiled.

"My name is Javik, should pleasantries be exchanged before joining at my table. Can you walk?"

"My name is Ripley, nice to have met you and thank you," she replied. At his question she stood up. Her balance was a bit off the first few steps, her legs feeling like jelly but she was alright nonetheless. Her black suit was still on her in its tattered glory, but it was dirtier and more damaged than she would've imagined at first, the fabric having ripped on her right side and there were some tears on the legs. The memory of the how and the why was non-existent. Ripley guessed the rest of appearance wasn't noteworthy either, but could not bring herself to care now. Food was more important.

Her first assumptions of being underground were partially correct. It appeared the man lived in a small enclave with a few other families, their houses carved from the rock themselves and surrounding a small outdoor courtyard. There were no doors, only curtains separating the rooms and as Ripley pushed one aside, following her host, she witnessed an unfamiliar domestic sight.

At the stone table, a little girl sat. Her feet dangling from the etch of her chair and displayed out front of her were a series of dolls. She was brushing the hair of one of the dolls but stopped abruptly when her steel coloured eyes met her own. They looked at her each other for a second, both with curiosity, but there was also a little fear in the eyes of the little girl. Fear of the unknown.

"Aleshia, see if your mother needs some help."

Wordlessly the girl gathered her dolls on her arms and walked away, a little hurry in her stride. Javik motioned to the chair she had sat upon and opened a small compartment that seemed to contain some food.

"Please, sit."

Ripley did and a plate was placed in front of her, filled with dried meat, some kind of bread and a few pieces of dried fruit. He also gave her another cup of water, which she instantly drained and he refilled. She restrained herself and started to munch on her food after saying thanks. Javik took the seat in front of her, watching her with interest and less sternness.

"Now, as to where you are; we are a several families living here in this enclave. It has no real name, but we are close to Niima Outpost," he began, referring to her earlier hastily put questions. "We found you and your friend in the desert about a day's walk from here, both of you severely dehydrated."

' _Poe._ '

Instantly Ripley stopped chewing as the name ripped through her. She instantly remembered his wound and how bad he was before they were rescued. "Poe. How is he? Did he make it?"

Javik made soothing noises, his voice remaining calm whilst hers was stressed. "He did and is currently treated by my wife. You've done a good job on the wound, but it had begun to infect. We've treated it and his fever is almost down." Ripley let out the breath she did not know she was holding.

"Thank you.. I just-" She breathed and ran a hand through her knotted blond locks. "I just wouldn't know what to do without him."

Javik regarded her in a calm matter. "I can see that.. If I may ask; how did you end up on this planet?" On his question Ripley felt herself stiffen a bit, and she was confirmed that her host had seen it for he continued; "Every sane resident of Jakku does not wander off in the desert, especially not wounded."

She glanced at him, at his grey eyes that held that glint of sternness and.. suspicion? Ripley was sure of it that behind those eyes was a smart and observant mind and wondered what to and what not to tell this man that had offered her kindness so far. He was right to be suspicious with all the First Order activity in their system, and surely word of the raided villages would reach the ears of the residents if they had not already arrived. This was a world where trading and sharing was important, and word travels fast on a marketplace.

"Let's say that we are not on best terms of the First Order."

Javik seemed to instantly accept that, because mentioning the bane of her former life brought a spark of anger in his eyes. He nodded with a fleeting hint of a smile across his lips. "That is good enough for me."

"Can I see my friend now?"

Javik stood up and motioned for her to follow him. After passing a few curtains they entered a room similar to hers where she woke up. Simple, a bit darker than the rest of the home, and with a cool temperature.

Poe was lying on a bed, he was sweating a bit but did not seem ailing or experiencing discomfort of any kind. The dark-haired woman sitting at his side on a stool turned around at their entrance, she regarded them with kind and sympathetic brown eyes. Never had Ripley seen someone look at her like that.

"Glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?" She asked with a voice matching the look in her eyes.

"Better. Thank you, and your husband for the kind help and hospitality," Ripley softly said, glancing at Javik next to her before meeting the woman's eyes again humbly.

"It's of no trouble," she responded back.

"How is he?" Ripley asked and took a few steps closer. The woman stood up and placed a wet rag on his forehead to keep his fever down before walking to her and Javik.

"Growing stronger every day. He's a fighter."

Ripley took in Poe's face, that was now smooth of wrinkles as he slept. She sighed and silently nodded, that he was fighter was branded inside her mind forever. Even as he slept there, recovering from his wounds and their recent struggles, she was growing a deeply found respect for the mind if it wasn't already there.

"We'll let you two alone," Javik said and placed a hand on his wife's shoulder. Ripley nodded and sat on the once-occupied stool, watching the man that she had tortured but that had also given her a name, an identity. A chance to _live_ , instead of serve.

And she would forever owe him for that.

* * *

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	6. Chapter 05

**I liked this chapter, gives her some humanity imo. I did not want to linger though and all good things come to an end..**

* * *

Chapter 05

Ripley was grateful for the family's help and support. And as Poe was still recovering she had started to make herself useful like doing chores around the house. She had learnt to sweep the floor, cook a meal and wash and fix her own clothes. None of these were her duties on the Finalizer or on the base since she was a weapon expert and there was no need to learn them, but her sense of perfection and always looking for improvement were handy traits in and around a household. Sha'li, the wife of Javik, quickly noticed that.

Her cooking was slowly getting better, her cleaning more secure and precise so that everything was spotless as it could be. She even advised them on how to improve the enclave's safety for raiders, her plans quickly set in motion after she mentioned some serious faults in their defences.

A few days after she had woken up, Ripley was sitting next to Poe reading a tattered book. A faint lamp her only light since night had fallen. It was written in Galactic Basic, but it was slightly altered with Jakku's own dialect making it an interesting challenge to read it. The effects of sleeping poorly did not help either, the images of the burning village were still present whenever she closed her eyes.

Her eyes went from the browned pages to her sleeves that were fixed up pretty neatly and not in tatters anymore, a sense of pride filled her as she could not detect a single loose string. Ripley had refused any of the garments that the family had offered her, not that they would not fit, but because it had felt wrong to do so.

Often during work her mind drifted to the First Order. She wondered about how they would've taken the news of their escape and the actions they took. She thought about her regiment, who their team leader was, and about Captain Phasma. The fearful woman that had brought out the best in her, pushed her to her limits and made her excel and fight better than the Captains before her.

A pang of guilt washed through her and Ripley slowly closed the book.

Was it wrong to feel the guilt? The doubt? This is what she wanted, didn't she? A life free from the Order, free from killing civilians, free from a secure base with food, a bed and her own regiment ready to fight for a single goal. That life was black and white. Here there were a thousand types of grey, and Ripley did not know what to do with grey.

The sharp ringing of the rail of the curtain made Ripley startle and reach for the blaster rifle on her belt on drilled instinct, only to find her fingers grasping nothing but thin air. She pressed her lips down into a thin line of frustration before she glared at the person intruding her privacy and thoughts.

Aleshia stared at her, curtain still in one hand, her grey eyes big and almost fearful, yet there was also that ever present curiosity in them. The young girl hadn't talked to her the past few days, only avoided and watched her from a distance. Javik and Sha'li said that she was just shy and needed to 'warm up', but Ripley could see the doubt in their eyes. There was an underlying tension when Aleshia was around, as if everyone had to tread lightly or else everything would break.

Ripley softened her gaze, noticing the effect on the girl and casted her eyes back down to the book. The leather cover of it rough beneath her finger tips.

"You barged into my thoughts," Ripley explained the silent question. "Sorry if I scared you." She looked up again to Aleshia, whose shoulders had begun to relax. The girl shied away from her now kinder eyes and nodded, almost ashamed.

"I'm sorry too, I should not have done that," the girl murmured, almost inaudible. She was hesitant at first, but slowly scuffled inside the dimly lit room. Ripley noticed the girl's hands shaking before she clasped them behind her back.

"What are you reading?" She carefully asked.

Ripley laid her eyes on the title and shrugged her shoulders. "Something about a scoundrel," her voice trailed off and the corners of her lips quirked up a bit for a second. "Haven't really been paying attention to the words."

"Are you thinking about him?" Aleshia nodded to Poe, who was quietly asleep. His fever had almost left his system, but was still too tired to get out of bed. Sometimes he was awake, only to eat and drink and then he would fall back to sleep. It was weird to see him like that. The girl sat down on the ground next to Ripley's feet, folding her legs.

Ripley followed the girl's gaze to Poe and sighed, eyes falling back to the book. "Among other things."

"Like what to do tomorrow?"

Ripley looked at Aleshia, who was no longer tense and her hands no longer shaking. She thought of her guilt-ridden thoughts before the girl had walked in on her and blessed the ignorance and innocence of the child a thousand times.

"Like that, yeah," Ripley decided to answer and smiled a bit, though it was not from the heart. Aleshia looked at her for a while, obviously thinking and contemplating things.

"Can I tell you something I can't tell my parents?"

"Sure."

Aleshia gave her a pointed look and held out her little finger. "Promise me that you won't tell?"

Ripley now smiled truly and shook the girl's pinkie with her own. "I promise."

"He's handsome," Aleshia giggled, face turning red.

After a while, mostly Aleshia talking and Ripley listening, she shooed the girl to bed because it was way past her curfew. Feeling drained, Ripley decided to also take some shut-eye. She shot Poe a final glance for turning off the light and left with silent steps but a heavy mind.

* * *

Sweat was pouring off of her, she had been working out in the sun for the whole morning, but even though it wasn't on the heat of the day, its rays were excruciating and stinging the skin on the back of her neck. Finally she straightened herself, feeling her back muscles protest from being stretch after sitting in a hunched position for a while.

She wiped the sweat out of her eyes from her forearm and took a few step back, examining her marvel. Ripley had managed to tinker the power generator so, so that it would use less fuel and more solar radiation to power up the enclave. It took a few days to thought it all out, and it probably wasn't perfect but it managed.

Poe walk towards her, handing her a cup of water which she instantly downed. "Never knew you were that good with tech," he began.

"Never knew that too," she replied and chuckled a bit half-heartedly.

Poe had woken up just after that night with Aleshia. Now that he was up and on the go he recovered faster, but he instead of taking his time to gather strength he was anxious. They needed to leave to find BB-8 and Finn. It had been a week since they crashed and they were overstaying their due, though the families nor the other residents of the enclave would never admit it.

That evening at dinner they had decided to tell the family of their plan.

Ripley was stirring her broth before dipping a piece of bread in it and ate that. The broth and bread were not bad as of itself, it was just better to combine the two. They were eating silently and though she had to accommodate to that the first two days of their stay here, it was never silent on the Base nor the Finalizer, she now usually found it comforting, but not today. Ripley looked up from her broth and gave the man next to her a glance, Poe nodded.

"Poe and I are leaving, at midnight."

The bomb was dropped and none too merciful, but Ripley did not do mercy and figured the direct approach was the best. Aleshia dropped her utensils and could not help but gasp, Sha'li regarded them with big eyes and Javik slowly but thoughtfully put down his knife and fork. There was understanding in his eyes, but also a form of pity and.. sadness?

"I understand. We are going to prep you for the journey, the desert is most unkind and you'll need all the help."

Without a word Aleshia had jumped up and ran from the dining table. Sha'li did nothing to stop her daughter, only pressing her hand against her lips to contain the emotions that was brewing inside of her.

"Thank you, Javik," Poe said, voice soft and kind. The man of the house nodded.

"Sha'li will you talk to Aleshia-?"

Ripley stood up before his wife could and held out a hand. "I will." Sha'li looked up with those kind eyes of hers, more moist than normal, and whispered a soft 'thank you'.

At Aleshia's room, Ripley heard her sobbing and sighed. This was going to be difficult. After their talk the girl seemed to have grown attached to her, following her around whenever she could and they talked about mundane things like what to eat for dinner or what to do the next day. And though Ripley was hesitant for any type of bonding at all, the girl still tried to be friends.

' _I would likely never see her again.'_

Ripley coughed, announcing her presence and pulled away the curtain just so that she could enter the room. Immediately she had to dodge a doll being tossed at her head, thank goodness for her reflexes.

"Go away!" Aleshia shrieked through her sobbing. The girl had curled into a ball of misery on her bed, clutching her knees tightly to her chest and rocking herself.

Ripley said nothing, picking up the doll and sat on the edge of the matrass. On a safe distance for possible flailing arms. She looked at the doll as Aleshia continued sobbing softly, her breath shuddering with each intake of air.

Silently Ripley offered the doll to Aleshia, who had lifted her head a bit and watched her with bloodshot eyes.

"Be more careful with her," she said and watched how the girl took the doll and stroked its head, almost lovingly. "We don't her to break, now do we?" Aleshia shook her head in a 'no'. Ripley watched Aleshia stroke the doll's head for a moment, when she wanted to say something the girl was already ahead of her.

"Her name is Ri'jia. She's my favourite," Aleshia began. Then she looked up again, her eyes less red than before but her face had become blotchy because of all the crying. "Did you have a favourite doll?"

Ripley glanced at the doll, clasped tightly in little sun-kissed hands. The toy looked back up at her, with beady green eyes. Its little head was covered with brown hair, similar texture to those of a Bantha. If Ripley had a normal life she could've been just like Aleshia. Innocent, not giving a care about the world and what happened outside of her 'bubble' and just play with dolls. But alas. Her blue eyes met grey again from a girl more than half her age.

"No, I did not."

Aleshia looked away, mouthing a silent 'oh'.

"I gave up my youth to give girls like you one, where you can play with your favourite dolls and live happy."

Ripley scooted closer and placed hand on Aleshia's shoulder. Instead of shrugging it off, the girl scooted closer and sat on her lap, head against her shoulder and embraced her, hands tightly wound around her waist. Ripley felt her cry again and placed her chin on the girl's crown, rocking her gently as she had seen her mother do earlier when she had busted her knee.

"Is that why you need to leave? To give girls like me a favourite doll?"

"Yes."

Aleshia pulled away from her slightly and looked at Ri'jia.

"I bet none of them are as pretty as Ri'jia. Promise me you will visit us? One day?"

"I promise."

After putting the girl to bed Ripley and Poe retired too, to catch some rest before the long trek ahead to Niima Outpost. If there was a place to find BB-8 and Finn that was their best shot. Though she had wished the man a good night, Ripley herself could not catch the sleep she needed.

She was nervous about what was going to come. Worried about what might and could happen, plus the nightmares did not help to relax. Finally after what felt like eons she drifted in some kind of half-wake, half-dream state where she was aware of the inky blackness of the back of her eyelids but did not register anything outside that.

Her shock was great when someone suddenly grasped her by the shoulder and shook her roughly. Ripley's eyes shot open, only to stare wide into brown. Those deep pools were commanding, but also almost frantic. Something was off.

"Ripley, wake up. We need to go, now! They are here!"

In a snap the fatigue had vanished and the adrenaline kicked in, flooding her system when all she heard outside was blaster fire and screams of agony.

* * *

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Please review!  
**


	7. Chapter 06

**Bit of an odd ball this chapter. It was quite difficult to entwine Ripley and Poe's own adventure back into the main story line. Let me know if I succeeded (or failed).**

 **I am also trying to decide if their escape of the enclave was too short or not.. but I did not want to linger there for too long..**

 **I did not grammar check this chapter, so you may notice some errors.**

* * *

Chapter 06

Poe grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her out of bed, making Ripley thank the gods that she had decided to sleep with her clothes and boots on. When regaining her footing as she stumbled after him, she knew it was bad. He was carrying both of their bags filled with rations, but worst of all his hand grabbing her wrist was covered in blood.

"Poe, what's-"

Javik hurried around the corner, eyes wide. Outside there was screaming and the sound of blaster fire. Ripley felt herself grow cold.

"Quick! You need to be quick! This way," Javik hastily said and gestured for them to follow. The man was sweaty. Passing a room Ripley could see in a flash in the corner of her eyes that Aleshia was huddled against Sha'li. Her doll forgotten on the floor as she clutched her abdomen, face pale.

She wanted to stop, to tell them that it was going to be alright, but she was pulled along by Poe. With a huff she tore her wrist from his grip when they reached the storage room in the back of the compound and helped pulling away a cabinet from the wall, revealing a door behind it.

"This will lead you to the desert," Javik breathed in pants. He looked at them with wide eyes, his complexion pale and sweaty.

"What about you and your family?" Ripley said alarmed and took a step towards him, searching his face. He wasn't going to oppose the Stormtroopers himself, was he? A scream in the distance made the hairs on her neck stand on end. Meanwhile Poe had managed to wrung open the scarcely used door, revealing a dark underground tunnel.

"We'll be fine, now hurry!" He pressed a small light in her hands and nudged her to the door none too gently; they were running out of time. "The tunnel will be dark, but you won't get lost. If you exit it, go straight ahead and you will eventually reach Niima Outpost." Poe reached out and clasped the man's shoulder firmly.

"Thank you."

Javik swallowed and nodded, the fear in his eyes now gone and filled with determination.

With her heart hammering in her throat and her breathing coming out in huffs, she and Poe ventured into the blackness of the tunnel. The door was closed behind them, and a scraping sound was heard as the cabinet was moved in front of it again. Now there was only one way out.

Half-crouching due to the low ceiling, they hurried through the passage way mostly on touch. The little light Javik gave them only illuminated the ground right in front of her feet, too weak to penetrate the inky blackness ahead of them. Suddenly the thought of being buried alive reared up its head inside of her and Ripley took a shivering breath. Instantly she felt a hand on her shoulder.

Poe kept her moving, giving wordlessly small pushes to usher her on and force her not to think about the tons and tons of rock above them that could be their graves. Thankfully it did not last long, as they rounded a corner and the end came into view as the starlit sky.

When they exited they ran the first few dunes, trying to create distance. They were on top of the third when a large explosion resonated behind them. Startled Ripley twisted around and felt her gut sank all the way to her feet. A large dark cloud drifted up and obscured the stars for just a short moment before vaporizing. The enclave was obscured by the mountains, but the eerie orange light of fire radiated from it.

Ripley did not talk for a moment after that as they kept ploughing through the tough sand until reaching a more stable and rocky soil. She could only think about Aleshia and her family, what had become of them?

"Who's blood was it?"

Poe looked up at her, his hair was pushed back so that it wouldn't stick to the skin of his forehead. Ripley had hers pulled into a ponytail. The sun hadn't risen yet, the mere traces of light sticking to the horizon, but the air was already warming up.

They were still walking at a reasonable fast pace, but one they could endure for hours if needed. Ripley was munching on a piece of dried meat, what it was she didn't know but it tasted like chicken. Poe glanced down at his hand, the blood having dried and almost scrubbed off of his tanned skin due to friction or sweat.

He let his hand drop and stared ahead with a strange look on his face akin to regret, making Ripley frown and her mouth to pull into a fine line. She remembered Aleshia clutching her abdomen when they had passed by the room in a hurry.

"Damn it," she managed to squeeze out and rubbed her forehead, a thick lump having formed inside her throat.

"Yeah," Poe replied softly.

Guilt filled her, for having doubt of leaving the First Order. Now she had experienced their cruelty from another point of view; the innocents. How could she have not foreseen this earlier? Had she been so blind? Anger overpowered the guilt.

She was angry at herself, for not able to do anything despite her training. Angry at her past live that was still nipping at her heels. Then the anger turned into sadness and she stopped walking, torn up inside with all that was happening and she could not help to let out a choked up sigh when the memories of Aleshia telling about her favourite doll came to mind.

Now all of that was gone.

Poe stopped, a few steps ahead of her and he shot her a knowing look before she glanced down at her feet, and took a few deep breaths to remember her training. Bottling all the guilt, anger and sorrow to deal with later, perhaps never. They needed to reach Niima Outpost, fast.

"Ripley," Poe said and reached out, his fingertips brushing the skin of her forearm as she passed, but sidestepped to prevent him grabbing her.

"We need to move," Ripley said from over her shoulder, not looking back and took a bite from her dried meat to prevent her spilling her guts out.

* * *

Niima Outpost was compiled out of a series of tents, a handful of merchants, workplaces and a small place to drink, sleep and forget one's sorrows. Despite that it was a bureaucratic nightmare, it was their ticket to find BB-8, Finn and a way out.

Ripley was standing near a stall at the very edge of the market, searching intently for a white, orange droid or any signs of Finn for the past hour. To no avail. Poe was meanwhile bargaining with a strange alien covered in rags and a mask a few stalls ahead for the little light Javik had given them for the tunnel.

The bags of food that the family had given them were empty, aside for a small flask of water. Almost a day had passed since they had reached Niima Outpost there were still no signs of Finn, BB-8 or a way off this rock. Word of the First Order raiding the nearby settlements had reached the marketplace, making Poe and Ripley even more desperate to get some information for their whereabouts. To no avail yet.

Next to her the merchant and owner of the stall grumbled in an alien language she did not understand, thus paid no attention to it. It sounded much like an outing of aggravation of her occupying his stall without buying anything. A sideway glare made the alien stop his babbling and caused it to huff.

Ripley looked back up when Poe approached her, his jaw tense in frustration. "Not much, I take it?" The man shook his head and held out his hand; it were only a few credits. Not even enough to buy a decent meal on this forsaken hellhole. She cursed.

"Not even close. And no one around seems to have seen an astromech droid, or they don't want to talk about it," Poe sighed. Ripley noticed that he was getting tired and so was she.

"We can always talk to that guy?" She nodded in the general direction of the one and only building around here. It was property of the one who owned Niima Outpost and where all the scavengers came to collect their reward of finding off-world items or whatever they could find in the desert. With not much to do or lose, it was the life of most people around here. Scavenging or die doing so, without any other prospect of future.

Poe pulled a face when she mentioned him. He clearly did not like it. "Only if there aren't any other options."

"Poe," Ripley said firmly and gave him a fierce look. "This is our only option, we've been here for two days now and there are no signs of BB-8 or Finn. He is the only one who knows every piece of information that goes in and out. We need to talk to him."

They were talking about Unkar Plutt.

Unkar was a sentient aquatic alien called a Crolute. Normally they would live in salt water, their gelatinous skin buoyant and floating. But being out of the water, the skin was sagging giving the junkboss a none too appealing appearance that matched his rotting personality. Judging by the scavengers and merchants passing through he was ruthless in negotiations, and those who were too bold or did not want to trade with him were dealt with by his own little army of thugs.

The hideous alien looked at him with a feign look of interest of seeing two outsiders, but with also a great deal of arrogance. "What can I do for you?" He drawled, a substantial amount of spit dripping from his lopsided mouth. Ripley took a small step back to prevent getting it all over her.

"We are looking for an astromech droid. White and orange of colour," Poe said, speaking clearly. A suspicious glint shone in Plutt's beady eyes.

"Why?"

"Because it's _his_ , that's why. Have you seen it or not?" Ripley said, her already thin patience being strained.

"Never seen it."

Ripley had never wished so strongly for her blaster rifle right now than that moment. The gleeful grin on that.. Blobfish was grating her nerves, but without a means to defend herself against his thugs she would not poke the lion. Thus she breathed a few times strongly through her nose to calm herself and walked away with Poe, who had a look in his eyes that almost could make fire ignite spontaneous.

"Told you he wouldn't be of use," Poe began after they had walked away from the stand.

"I know," she groaned and pressed the palm of her hand to her forehead, trying to block the immense headache, but of no use. After a few seconds she opened her eyes again and looked at Poe, who sat down on a crate, his hands in his hair.

She could almost feel his desperation, searching for his droid, his friend.. but did not know what to do to comfort him. Perhaps simply standing there, waiting for him to get to terms with the situation and be there for him when he needed to talk was enough.

If they unfortunately had the time, because two Stormtroopers just walked inside.

"Poe," Ripley said and grasped the man's shoulder. When he looked up, one of the troopers simultaneously laid his eyes on them, his face obscured by the dark visors.

"Over there!" He shouted, alerting his companion and raised his rifle. "Halt!"

"Shit."

Ripley turned on her heels, pulling Poe on his feet in the single motion and busted into a sprint with him on her heels. Blaster fire flew past them, hitting the stalls they passed or innocent patrons that were too late to jump to cover. Ripley felt one fly by her by just an inch, its heat felt.

"STOP!" one of the Troopers yelled somewhere behind them, but they did not look.

They burst through the back door of the compound and took a hard right, away from the marketplace that was now an ocean of flames. Tie fighters roared in the sky, shooting at something.

"There! It's starting up already!" Ripley shouted over her shoulder and pointed to a ship that was already firing up its engines. "Can you fly it?"

"I know that ship! It's.. it's the-"

"CAN YOU FLY IT OR NOT?!"

"Yes! But what about BB-8! You promised to _help_ me!"

"First we get out of here, then we'll worry about BB-8!"

Poe, having no choice, jumped up on the ship's loading ramp, following Ripley and just in time before it closed. They held on for dear life to whatever was near them when the ship stared to rise from ground, almost digging back into it. They made loops, spins and every move that structural and gravitational possible for a Corellian freighter this size, Ripley had to concentrate hard not to vomit.

After wat felt like a century they straightened and shot up to the sky, gravity returning to normal as they ventured into space. Ripley looked at Poe, and though they were both messed up, a grin of relief appeared on their faces.

Quick footfalls of boots resonated on the durasteel floor behind her and due to the relief of the moment she was too late to turn around. Poe reached out, pulling her towards him with quite an amount of force and she felt the wind of something swinging just past the back of her head. She collided with his chest, but both managed to regain their balance. Ripley turned around to meet a furious pair of hazel eyes and clenched her jaw. Poe released her shoulders and gave the stranger and equal measured glare.

The fiery eyes belonged to a girl, just a few inches shorter than her and seeming a bit younger, but what she lacked in age and height did not in ferocity. She pointed the hard looking end of her staff at them, which seemed to be her weapon of choice and bared her teeth.

"Who are you? What are you doing here!"

"I could ask you the same thing!" Ripley snapped at her in equal measure and clenched her fists. Ready to defend herself if the girl should decide to be hostile.

There was a beeping noise from behind her and something rolled passed her feet. "BB-8, no!" the girl gasped and tried to stop the white-orange droid from rolling towards them. Instantly the tension in the situation diffused by Poe kneeling and letting out a 'HA!' of surprise.

"BB-8! There you are boy!" He laughed and placed a hand on the little droid's head who cooed.

"You know them?" The girl asked, eyebrow pulled up sceptically but slowly lowered the end of her staff and straightened her back. Slowly Ripley unclenched her fists and let out a withheld breath, the droid beeping in a wild and enthusiastic manner.

"He's your master?"

Poe looked up, smiling now at Rey when BB-8 confirmed the girl's question and seeming to have let their little situation to pass as a mistake. Ripley was almost reluctant, but went with the flow of the conversation.

"Thank you, for finding him! My name is Poe," he introduced himself. "This is Ripley." On cue, Ripley nodded in confirmation still a bit hesitating to smile. Her Stormtrooper training still making her a bit tense.

The girl seemed to have relaxed and nodded, weapon resting in her hands at hip height and sported a smirk on her face due to the way that BB-8 was cruising around Poe's feet almost like a lovesick dog. "I am Rey, I'm here with-"

"Ripley! Poe!"

Ripley turned to see Finn, a look of relief on his face as he hurried towards them. He clasped both of them hard on the shoulder, causing Poe to wince due to the force.

"Sorry," Finn quickly apologized and removed his hands like he was burned.

"Old wound," Ripley explained quickly. Her former squad-leader nodded.

"It's just so wonderful to see you two, I had lost hope when I saw the wreckage of the fighter sink in the sand," he said emotionally. Ripley nodded, glad to see him too and smiled.

"I guess it fell to pieces in the atmosphere, we're lucky to be alive.. all three of us."

"So you two are also part of the Resistance like Finn is?" Rey asked, her hazel eyes shimmering with something akin to admiration. Ripley gave her fellow ex-Trooper a strange look, what was going on here?

"Yes!" Poe said quickly, saving their asses. "Yes we are!"

The girl took a step back, a dreamy look on her face as she regarded the three of them. "Wow."

"Finn, can I talk to you for a moment?" Ripley slowly said and gestured to one of the cargo areas. The man stood up, following her a bit hesitantly. When being out of earshot, Ripley turned to him. Her blue eyes almost scrutinizing.

"What did you do?"

Finn looked at her strangely, a bit angry. "What else should I have told her? That we're Stormtroopers that wreaked havoc across the galaxy for the First Order and get killed? No thank you."

Ripley pinched the bridge of her nose. After a quick hassle of words, they re-joined Poe, Rey and BB-8. Rey was darting all around the ship, fawning over it and muttering about being into space for the first-time, and at the same she was drooling all over the fact that she was in the company of 'three' members of the Resistance.

After a small meal of still preserved food that BB-8 had found in one of the storage compartments, Ripley retreated to the other side of the ship that appeared to be a combination of the med-bay and sleeping quarters. She settled herself on one of the beds, not caring that the bedding smelled off or her lying on top of it all filthy and smelly.

She was beyond the point of tired, she was exhausted. But as she laid there on her back, with her eyes closed, the images of Aleshia stroking the hair of her favourite doll Ri'jia flashed before her eyes.

 _"Promise me you will visit us? One day?"_

 _"I promise."_

Then the images shifted to Aleshia holding her abdomen, a pained look on her pale face. Blood seeping out from between her little fingers as she was pressed close to her mother's chest, the same blood coating Poe's hand. Then it all shifted to the resonating explosion and the light of the fire consuming the enclave. Knowing the settlers were trapped like rats.

Ripley let out a shivering breath and pressed the palms of her hands hard against her eye-lids past the discomfort and almost reaching the point of pain. Trying to banish it all away.

* * *

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	8. Chapter 07

**Next chapters there will be more bonding with the crew and Ripley is finally able to lift that burden off her chest.. ;) If I could only find the right moment...  
Amore btw means love or something.  
**

 **English is not my mother-language and most of the time I am too lazy to grammar check. Errors may occur.**

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Chapter 07

"So, you're sure you don't want it back?"

"No, you can have it. It suits you."

Finn looked at the leather jacket in his hands, smiling softly as he finally got something that was _his_. Ripley sat on one of the couches, one leg propped underneath her, the other stretched out and regarded the situation with a small smile on her face. Poe was grinning from ear to ear at Finn's reaction, who was babbling a 'thanks' and put the jacket back on.

When his brown eyes and grin found her face, she tore her eyes away from the two and focused on her plate on her lap, the feeling of getting caught making her feel uncomfortable and flustered. What her breakfast consisted of was unknown, but it tasted decent enough. Yet it did nothing to fill that void inside of her. Someone sitting down next to her pulled Ripley out of her thoughts. It was Finn.

"Slept well?"

Ripley shrugged. "Yeah, it was enough."

When Finn remained silent and Ripley looked up from her plate and into his eyes, they were filled with worry and pity. She stood up, giving Finn the remainders of breakfast on her plate, suddenly not so hungry anymore.

"Ripley-"

"No, Finn," she said resolute and shot a glare at him from over her shoulder.

Finn had also moved to stand, nearly empty plate in his hand. She then turned, walking passed Poe with fast strides without acknowledgement. The rotors in her head were turning of why he had looked at her in that way, and why she felt this much anger in response to it. In the hallway towards the cockpit Rey was making some hard-needed repairs; the ship was barely holding together.

"Hey Rey."

The girl looked up from the hole in the floor, sweat pearling on her forehead that was wiped away with her forearm. She beamed at her with a big smile, that was almost infectious if it weren't for the headache pounding away inside Ripley's skull.

"Ripley, hi. Need something?"

"Just looking for some female company, away from all that testosterone," Ripley said with a half-truth and gave the girl a wink who just chuckled and kneeled back down in her pit of grease and metal to continue the repairs. Somehow finding it relaxing to watch Rey work, Ripley sat down next to BB-8, who was helping Rey by giving the equipment she needed with a small robotic arm.

"Yeah, they are something aren't they?" Rey said amused, and a bit muffled.

"You can say that again.. Poe gave Finn his jacket," Ripley told her after a small pause in her sentence. "I could tell it meant a lot to him."

"Well, Finn really seems to admire Poe," Rey stated and straightened up, popping her back with a satisfied groan before hopping out of the hole. She sat next to Ripley, legs dangling over the edge.

"Another catastrophe prevented," the girl breathed and thanked BB-8 heartily when he gave her a glass of water. "I fixed the ventilation system, to purify the air otherwise toxic gasses would fill the ship and we would be dead within 15 minutes," she hastily explained at Ripley's questioning gaze.

"Ah."

"Do you have someone you admire?"

Ripley glanced up from the pit to the girl next to her. Innocent hazel eyes meeting her blue ones. For a moment she was dumbfounded and looked down at her hands folded in her lap.

' _Do I admire someone?_ '

Images of Captain Phasma flashed before her eyes. The hardened woman who didn't seem afraid of anything, not even Kylo Ren or General Hux. A pillar of strength and an inspiration to all, especially the very few female, Stormtroopers. Captain Phasma who brought out the best of her on the battlefield, made her ruthless and efficient as was expected of a Stormtrooper. Instilling fear to everyone who opposed them.

"I used to," Ripley said softly. Her fingers fumbling with the fabric of her dirty black shirt.

"Not anymore?" Rey asked with a gentle tone in her voice. It awakened a flare of anger inside of Ripley like it had when Finn showed her his worry, but she tempered it instantly. The girl meant well.

"No," she replied.

But then images of Poe popped up inside of her. How he withstood her interrogation, and managed to hold out until the very end. How he had mentally bounced back from Kylo Ren's onslaught so quickly that it had been almost frightening, and how his body recovered fast from his wounds caused by their crash. He was quick to deal with those things and move on.

Ripley abruptly halted that reminiscing train of thoughts and pressed her palm against her forehead, the headache getting worse.

"Ripley, are you alri-" but before Rey could finish her sentence the ship shook as if pulled to a sudden stop. Instantly Poe and Finn came running towards them. Rey and Ripley jumped on their feet.

"What's happening?" Finn, asked almost panicky as the four, or five counting BB-8, flew to the cockpit. Rey jumped into the chair and pressed a few buttons, then read the display.

"We're trapped in a tractor beam," the girl murmured and pressed another few buttons. "We can't escape from it."

"Not even when we go into hyperspace?" Poe suggested. Rey shook her head.

"Unless we want to tear ourselves apart.." she did not needed to finished that sentence. The suggestion was immediately out of the window, Finn shuddered at the horrible mental image.

"Wait," Ripley held up a hand. BB-8 was beeping like crazy and she snapped her fingers. "Of course, the toxic gasses! Good job BB-8!"

"Hold on, what toxic gasses?" Poe asked, worried.

"Do we need to know something," Finn said alarmed.

Both men were ignored as Ripley and Rey shared glances. The girl's eyes suddenly grew wide as pieces of the puzzle fell together and nodded ferociously.

"That's it. Finn, Poe, get the gas masks. Ripley, I need your help undoing the repairs! BB-8 follow me!"  
Soon the five of them were cramped into the crawling space between the metal grid. Rey was fumbling with some wires, getting tools handed by Ripley who was pressed to the side and in an easier position to manoeuvre.. sort of.

It got hot, real quickly in the confined space, sweat pouring off of her forehead and she thanked the gods for the breathing masks; the oxygen that they provided cool to breathe in help somewhat. But they added some noise, thus they tried to breathe even and somewhat in sync with each other. Footsteps above them approaching their position. With a curse Rey suddenly pulled away her fingers, her elbow knocking Ripley to the side, against Poe who in turn bumped into Finn and BB-8, the latter beeping.

Instantly the floor grid was pulled up from above them and light flooded the place. A very angry looking man and Wookie glaring down at them.

"What are you doing on _my_ ship?!"

* * *

A roar was heard in the distance that made Ripley's gut sink in her feet and her heart to nestle itself in her throat. She shared a look with Poe, who was just about as pale as she. Members of the Kanjiklub and the Guavian Death Gang looked around wildly, trying to sort out from which direction the roaring came from.

"This is bad.." Han murmured. BB-8 cooed.

Instantly hell broke loose in the form of three gigantic masses of tentacles and teeth. Tearing the mercenaries apart like they were nothing and stuffing them in their multi-layered mouths.

' _Shit._ '

"We got to go!" Ripley yelled, turning on her heels and grabbing Poe by the shirt, pulling him with her. Chewbacca and Han Solo instantly followed.

The upcoming minutes that felt like an entire millennium, consisted out of dodging, ducking, shooting and running in order not to get eaten by the Rathtar's or shot by misaligned or aimed blaster fire. Then Ripley slipped on the entrails of one unfortunate guy.

"Ripley!" Poe shouted, reaching out for her in an instant. Slipping and sliding she finally managed to get a foothold and jumped for his hand. It was warm, strong and held hers in a death grip. He pulled her on her feet and with him. Ripley felt the whoosh of air as a mass of tentacles flew just past her and collided against the wall inches from where she had slipped earlier.

In all the chaos they managed to reunite with Rey and Finn in the hangar bay, the horrific sight of her forgotten the moment the rest of the mercenaries and a stray Rathtar met each other here.

"GET BACK ON THE SHIP!"

Ripley pushed Finn ahead of her up the rampart, and ran, or slipped, after him. Poe was already at the controls yelling at them to hurry. She shot a look back, face paling for that god awful _monster_ was hurling itself towards them.

"Close it!" She screamed at Poe, who slammed down the button instantly. Five of them ran to the cockpit, Finn taking Chewbacca from Rey and settling the roaring Wookie on the couch.

"This is _not_ how I had planned my day!" Han Solo growled frustrated and pressed some buttons. Rey had flung herself in the co-pilot seat. The hangar bay doors were still open and the Millennium Falcon roared to life, but just as it got off the ground the Rathtar sucked itself around the cockpit. Ripley flinched, taking a step back with a gasp.

The one of the displays of the Falcon flashed red. "That's red. Why is that red?" Ripley asked, BB-8 cooed ominously.

"Our shields are getting decimated, we need to get out of here and this fucking thing off!" Han growled and gestured to the monster still trying to break through the windscreen, slobbering all over it.

"Jump to hyperspace," Poe said. Determined.

Rey gasped a 'no!' but Han Solo had a thoughtful look for a moment. The old scoundrel then nodded. "Grab onto something."

Ripley took a hold of a support beam just in time when the ship jumped, probably incinerating those who remained in the hangar. On an instant the Rathtar was tore from the window, unable to hold on due to the massive acceleration. Rey and Han were pushed back into their seats and just as quickly as it was, the gravity settled back to normal and Ripley was flung forward, just barely able to avoid from hitting the beam with her head.

She let out a small breath and ears perked up when a yelp came from the central room of the Falcon, combined with enraged Wookie roars.

"I am just trying to HELP you!" Finn yelled at the fur ball.

"Hey!" Han snapped and stood up from the chair after punching in some coordinates. "Don't hurt him!"

"Hurt him?" Finn squeaked, he looked up at them desperately when they entered the room. Wookie blood all over his hands. "He tried to rip my arms off, TWICE!"

"Because you are hurting him!"

Rey came to the rescue, relieving Finn from its burden. The girl and the Wookie seemed to develop an instant friendship and it was quite amusing to see. A walking carpet and a desert girl.

"By the way, how come you even in possession of this ship? You stole it did you?" He accused, regarding them with a hard suspicious look. Finn looked down at his boots.

"We stole it from a guy named Unkar Plutt on Jakku. As if why we are on the run is that we need to get BB-8 to the Resistance" Poe said, halting Han Solo's train of thoughts. "He has a map that would help us find Luke Skywalker."

An odd look washed over the older man's face. "Luke?" He murmured and scratched his stubbly chin. "Luke has been gone for ages."

"General Organa has the rest of the map within R2-D2. Combined with BB-8's, the Resistance can find him. I am sure of it," Poe pressed, taking a step to the man but in a non-threatening way. Only to emphasize his point.

It was then that BB-8 had decided to show them the map; a distant star system that was unknown to Ripley, who knew of the systems the First Order controlled. The holographic interface filled the entire room in a strange blueish hue. It was then that Han Solo told them about Luke, his disappearance and how the man felt that he had failed his students and the Force and simply vanished.

"By why are you searching for him now? Why not earlier?" Ripley pressed, accepting the fact that the Force was indeed real and not just simply a bedtime story created for children quicker than Finn and Rey.

"Because we couldn't. We respected him for his decision, but now with the First Order on our borders.." the man let out a breath and turned, leaving without a word.

Ripley turned to Finn, Rey and Poe. The latter looking horrible, his entire right arm covered in blood and she sighed. Imagining how _she_ must look like, perhaps she should start a new trend; Gore Amore.

* * *

The ship hummed softly, as it coursed itself in space. They had jumped out of hyperspace just half an hour ago, due to lack of safe routes and getting in more treacherous territory with stars and planets. The prospect of ending up in a star wasn't fairly appealing, so they were going on their journey as fast as the Falcon could. They needed to refuel and resupply though, desperately. So Han had the Millennium fly to a remote planet, where the First Order nor the Resistance had set a foothold yet, so they would be safe. But it would take a while to get there.

After an unfortunate cold shower, but nice nonetheless because it got the gore out of her hair, Ripley had taken the task upon herself to try and rinse out the blood out of her clothing. She was glad it was black, but the smell was horrid. The cold water would make do and as she laid her shirt and pants to dry she wore a loose oddly scented white tunic and brown breeches that Rey had found stowed away. Whom it belonged to was a mystery, but it was definitely a size too large. With a few adjustment it managed to fit, somewhat.

Revelling in the feeling of cleanliness, Ripley had her hair loose for it to dry quicker as she munched on her evening meal. Han Solo, Chewbacca and Rey were undoing the 'repairs' that Unkar Plutt and his predecessors had made, that degraded the Millennium Falcon more than it upgraded. In front of her Finn and Poe were playing a game.

The game was a strategy one, allowing only two players to play simultaneously. Each player had a little army out of monsters with numerous sizes and abilities. The trick was to purge the other player's little army and survive.

Right now, Finn wasn't doing so good.

"Ah no, not that one!" He groaned and a particular large brute was being chopped by a smaller, but more agile alien from Poe's team. It stood on top of it triumphantly.

Poe grinned and leaned back in his chair with his arms across his chest. "You only have two left, I've got six. Do you surrender?"

A defiant glint entered Finn's eyes and her former captain shifted in his seat. "Never."

"You know you are going to lose right?" Ripley chuckled and ate the final piece of her odd looking meat in her mouth, after she swallowed she chucked down the remaining water in her cup. She dumped her plate and cup in the dispenser at the side of the ship, both of them recyclable.

"I feel flattered that you have so much faith in me," Finn replied, placing of hand of feign hurt on his chest. Making her smile a bit.

Ripley sat back down and watched the battle on fold from her spot from the couch, Rey's staff in hand and examining it on how to make it better. Her premonition proved to be true, because soon enough Finn was defeated by Poe. The former groaning and demanding a rematch later after he practiced. Poe heartily laughed and took him up for that challenge, saying that he would be waiting.

"He is going to keep playing until he defeats you," Ripley said and glanced up to watch him play against the VI. Poe sat down next to her, his once bloody sleeve just rolled up since it was not that bad as hers.

"I know."

They sat like that for a while, basking in each other's silence. One occupied with a staff, the other with its thoughts. Ripley figured that Rey's staff seemed to be an old electrostaff, once used by the IG-100 Magnaguards of the Separatist State. But the part that would sent an electric current running through each end seemed to be malfunctioning. If she only got it working..

"Darn it."

Poe looked at her, smiling a bit. "Not working?"

"No, but I will make it work eventually." Ripley sighed and laid it away on the ground, vouching to look at it for another time because her headache was coming back with full force. As she normally did, she pressed the palm of her hand against her forehead and closed her eyes, willing it away.

Poe was silent for a time and she felt him observing her. "Does this happen often?"

"More than I would like to," she breathed. The screeching of the game that Finn was playing even hurt her ears and made her headache intensify. She startled when a hand touched her shoulder and her blue eyes looked up to meet dark brown.

"Come," Poe nodded to the med-bay. Seeing no other solution, Ripley dragged herself up and followed him. In the med bay he rummaged through some drawers, searching for something. Ripley slowly made her way to the bed and hopped on it, automatic doors shutting with a hiss. She closed her eyes again because the light hurt.

"Ah."

She looked up when Poe apparently found what he was looking for and he ventured towards her, holding a small white pill in the palm his hand and a glass of water in the other. She carefully took it, the pill was even and held no markings.

"Something to elevate that headache of yours," he explained gently.

Seeing no harm in taking it and trusting that he would not drug her after all they had been through she took it, swallowing it with ease and some water. Meanwhile Poe was dimming most of the light, leaving only one illuminated in the farthest corner so that they could still see, but it wasn't hurting her eyes.

"Poe, what are you doing?"

"Light can make the headache intensify, now relax."

"Since when did you become a doctor instead of a fighter pilot?"

He sat down next to her, silent for a moment. The only thing now audible was the humming of the ship.

"Since I know how to deal with migraines," he explained softly, but due to the quietness in the room it was like he was talking to her in normal volume. "I happen to be prone to them when stressed. Darkness, medication and sleep is for most the only way to deal with them. I am not saying that you have one, but I bet it's helping."

Ripley glanced at him, her eyes already getting used to the darkness and distinguishing his features with a little help from the small light in the far back. He was right. The headache was still there, but not as prominent then in the central room. "Yeah," she muttered and tore her gaze away, looking at her hands.

Sitting there, next to each other in darkness felt oddly intimate, but also vulnerable. It wasn't something Ripley was used to cope with and thus was uncomfortable with it.

"Try to sleep it off, okay?" Poe moved to stand, but was stopped by her hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you," she whispered and let him go.

* * *

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	9. Chapter 08

**Now that is out of the way.. let's kick some ass!**

* * *

Chapter 08

Ripley sat on the edge of the cliff, legs dangling and eyes closed with palms on the ground. She was enjoying the cool wind against her skin that also played with whispers of her hair that failed to stay in the bun. There was rain in the sky, but it had not fallen yet. They had landed earlier that day on the planet, which name was so complex that Han Solo did not bother to mention, where they would restock, refuel and get some repairs done.

It was a remote planet, away from Galactic politics, unspoiled in every way possible with lush forests, fields of tall grasses, mountains and cliffs, but it still had a small space port in one of its handful major cities in order to trade with those off-world. A more peaceful, merrier and lush Jakku, if one should compare.

Ripley opened her eyes when she heard footsteps behind her, the grass rustling.

"Relaxing when there is work to be done, soldier?" Finn's mocking voice made her chuckle, but she stood up nonetheless.

"Oh shut up," she countered, her eyes meeting his dark ones that glinted mischievously. She glanced passed his shoulder to the Millennium Falcon. She could not hear them, but she could see Rey rambling against Poe and Han, but not in a bad way before she kneeled down and rubbed the leaf of a plant between her fingers with great interest.

"She's in awe," Ripley stated and looked back at Finn, who turned a bit to glance at the desert girl.

"She's never been on another planet before," Finn explained. "Been on Jakku her entire life, hearing stories about other worlds but never experienced it."

Ripley did not know what to think, seeing Rey this enthusiastic was oddly endearing, but the innocence and naivety made the alarm bells in her head go off. Rey was not a stupid girl, having knowledge of people, trade and not easily fooled or pickpocketed, but she lacked the knowledge about dangerous foliage and creature life or survival skills in order to provide herself food, or make shelters in harsh conditions other than the desert. Ripley made a mental note to teach the girl everything she knew, and make a list of planets that are too hostile to set foot on that weren't programmed in the Millennium Falcon, now that Rey had obviously found a lust for travel and exploration.

"Ah, there you are," Han Solo said, announcing her presence as she followed Finn to the group. He handed her a datapad and a credit chip. "Here is a list what we need, where to get it and who to speak."

Ripley looked at him in an almost foul manner. "You are sending me _shopping_? Han, I am a weapon specialist not a logistics manager."

"Today you are, so is Rey."

The woman looked up from the plant she had been touching. "What?"

Ripley crossed her arms across her chest, a brow raising. Han scratched the back of his neck. "It's not because you are women or anything."

"I see." Ripley drew out the word.

Finn and Poe shifted uncomfortably on their feet, looking anywhere but Han and Ripley, the last giving the former the hint of a glare. Then Chewbacca roared and huffed in his inaudible Wookie language.

"Oh yeah, right," Han said as if he forgot something. "There are about a 1000 credits on that chip, so spent it wisely. Suppliers are paid after delivery, got that?" Before she could bit at him to shove it up in a place when the sun didn't shine the scoundrel had already turned and walked up the ramp of the Falcon and into the ship.

Ripley breathed out through her nose, forcing herself to relax and swallow any heinous words that threatened to spill over her lips. He saved them, she should be grateful.

' _But I hate markets._ '

Surely she had been there on her patrols and had proper knowledge about money and different currencies, but big crowds were threatening. Easy to lose one self, or be robbed or mugged. Combining that with the fact that she did not have a firearm to protect herself made her itchy for one.

Her eyes looked down to the small datapad in her hands and scrolled through it. It was mostly everyday items, a very short list, and some addresses of those who could deliver them fuel and feeding supplies.

"I don't see any clothing on the list. Does he expect us to walk around forever in the same garments?" Rey murmured, taking the datapad that Ripley offered to her and gave it a once over.

Finn scratched the side of his face sheepishly. "I, uh.. made the list. Feel free to add things."

Ripley and Rey looked at him for a few seconds before sharing a glance with each other themselves.

' _Men._ '

* * *

"Thank you for your cooperation, my client will pay after the delivery." Ripley shook the two-fingered hand, that was more like a weird tentacle, of a small weird looking alien, it's many eyes ogling her. BB-8 cooed something when they exited the building and into the busy street.

"Yeah I know.. slimy," Ripley murmured with disgust and wiped her hand on her tattered black shirt. A shiver going down her spine. "Let's go find Rey."

The girl was soon found in intense dialogue with a trader. All kinds of foods set out in front of his stall to attract customers. Some were colourful and fruit-like.. others not so much. But his products seemed to be the best around here so Rey was trying to strike a bargain with him.

Ripley and BB-8 stayed on a respective distance as the girl was bargaining intensely with the alien. Finally they came up with an agreement, Rey shook its hand to close the deal and walked up to them.

"I can't believe how difficult," she paused and sighed, before beginning anew. The tension almost leaving her features. "How was yours?"

"Mine was fine. Did not lose too many and he will deliver at the end of the day," Ripley said as they started walking. "They want to make a living Rey, stripping as many credits as possible from an otherworldly visitor isn't uncommon. Everyone would do that, even you." BB-8 cooed.

"Alright, perhaps not droids. But they can be programmed to do so."

"I know," Rey sighed and they manoeuvred themselves through the crowd and passed some stalls. Their tempo slow enough to investigate the stalls they passed by, looking for anything that would be of interest, but not lingering.

Though Ripley was not entirely comfortable yet (which would be foolish on a foreign planet), Rey was carrying her staff. Which at least was some kind of weapon with them aside from their fists and wit. But as far as the town went, it did not seem unsafe or violent.

It was called Ythriik, and though it was the only major city with a spaceport the number of aliens was few and the size of the city was not staggering. The natives were bear-stag like, more like a Wookie than one of those animals itself. They had big claws that were surprisingly agile and precise like fingers, but had also small antler like shapes on their heads. Its form and consistency differed per individual.

Ythriik was a beautiful city, hewn out of a rock face in the middle of the forest below the cliff side of where the Millennium Falcon had landed. The big canopy above them prevented most of the sun's golden rays to touch the ground, thus the whole city was lit with strange firefly like creatures captured in lamps, since electricity was scarce and limited. It was almost primitive, yet oddly refreshing for Ripley.

"Alright, now we only need some clothes," Rey mumbled after she had given the list a final look. Their bags were stuffed. Ripley glanced at her tattered black garments, having refused to wear the white tunic from yesterday again. Even after washing it smelled rank and there were some spots here and there hardened by the blood that had not quite come out.

"Perhaps this?" Ripley held up a long red cloth.

"A see-through dress?" Rey chuckled and sifted through the clothes. "I bet _that_ would fell our enemies."

Ripley instantly let go of it as if it burnt. Her usually confident self now insecure for she had no knowledge of fabrics. Everything on the base or The Finalizer was endorsed and distributed automatically. "Do we only buy for ourselves..?" She began to divert the topic.

"The men will have to look later on. What do you like?" Rey paused her rummaging through the pile.

Ripley stared blankly at the girl.

"What do you like to wear?" Rey elaborated slowly and Ripley continued to stare at her.

"We only wore uniform or our armour," Ripley finally said. "I don't know what I like, but it has to be practical."

"Alright, practical it is. For everyone I think," the desert girl murmured and after some searching she dumped a small pile of clothes into Ripley's arms. They varied greatly from texture, colour and type. "Try these on there." Rey pointed in the direction of a small wooden stall with a curtain in front of it, where people could try out the clothes with at least some dignity.

"Is that really necessary?"

"Do you know your size?"

Ripley continued to stare blankly at her.

"Yeah, thought so," Rey confirmed her silence as a no. She then turned Ripley around by the shoulders and gave her a small push. "Try it on."

* * *

Ripley was again sitting on her spot, one leg dangling over the edge of the cliff and the other tucked beneath her. Below Ythriik was still thriving despite the sun had already made way for the two moons, the light emanating from them casting a silvery glow over the wilderness surrounding Ythriik. Apparently some festivities were going on judging by the music that the wind carried. Han Solo had already gone down there, going his own way.

Ripley could hear the bustling of crowds and laughter below her and felt her curiosity peaked, but also cautiousness. Some things were hard to let go from her old life, like not go into a situation unprepared.

Even throwing away her tattered old shirt was odd. It shouldn't be but it was. Piece by piece she was stripping away her old identity FN-4026 and began to rebuild her life as Ripley, which was difficult but also refreshing. She still held onto the black boots, because they were comfy and sturdy, and now wore a new set of black pants, a long dark green shirt and dark brown leather vest. She had made a mental note to make a holster on the inside for a blaster. Her thought process halted when footsteps approached her.

"Hey," Rey said and squatted down next to her. "Beautiful here isn't it?"

Ripley had been to several worlds like this after her first mission, then she was mostly patrolling or going on recon missions to ensure the First Order's hold. She had no time nor the mind-set then to enjoy the little things that life could offer, not even the scenery. Now she did and the woman sighed.

"Yeah, it is."

In her peripheral vision Ripley could see Rey looked at her for a moment, then down to the grass and plucked a sprite.

"How's your headache?"

Ripley smiled a bit and shared a glance with the desert girl. "Better, Poe had some suggestions on how to deal with them. It's not much, but it's helps in its own way."

' _Though it did not take away the nightmares._ '

Rey grinned back at her, genuinely. "I'm glad." She then paused as if contemplating something. Slowly Rey started to speak, almost hesitantly. "Finn, Poe and I are heading down there. I heard from Chewbacca there is some Festival of Life going on and I was wondering if you also wanted to come along?"

Ripley looked at the girl, a sudden nervousness curling in her gut. Her eyes slid way from Rey to the village below, it was an attractive offer and then her curiosity would be sated. But could she do it?

"Who's staying with the Falcon?"

Rey thrusted her thumb back over her shoulder. Ripley gazed past her and saw Chewbacca and BB-8 doing some repairs. "Chewbacca and BB-8 are staying. Chewie is feeling better himself and more than capable to defend the ship if necessary. So what do you say?"

Her jaw clenched a bit as the desert girl awaited her answer. What did she have to lose?

' _A nice evening if you don't say yes,_ ' her inner voice quipped.

"Alright," Ripley said with a small smile. Rey straightened herself, grinning from ear to ear and offered her a hand, which Ripley took and allowed herself to be pulled up.

"Come on then," Rey chuckled and pulled her along, not letting go of her hand. "She's going with us!"

In no-time the four of them were wandering the streets, which had been mundane and scarcely decorated during earlier that day, but now all colourful and bright. Music was everywhere, humming and making her heart beat just a bit faster than normal. Despite that the crowds were thick, it was easy to manoeuvre in, but they still stuck together. Not wanting to lose one another.

Finn and Rey were glancing around wanting to see and absorb everything, all the colours, the musicians, the dancers and the artworks, with a look of awe on their faces that Ripley felt in her veins.

Slowly all the colours, music and smells became one blur to Ripley as she was allowing herself to enjoy it and let go of herself. Her headache had vanished, along with all the bad and negative emotions. She laughed along with Rey and Poe, when Finn poorly executed some 'dance moves', completely out of rhythm. She felt happy.  
A fire breather was performing tricks, blowing small mushroom clouds of fire up into the air on a safe distance from the decorations. Suddenly she was pulled back sharply by her arm, in front of her a wave of heat and light forcing itself on the forefront of her senses. The moment that happened Ripley sucked in a deep breath and the cloud of happiness she had been drifting on disintegrated and reality sunk in.

A sense of panic flooded her, as well as flashes of the burning villages. A mother clutching her crying child to her chest, staring defiantly down the scope of her blaster rifle, who morphed into Aleshia and Sha'li, the little girl clutching her bloody abdomen. Doll forgotten on the floor.

With every blast of fire, Ripley flinched and took a step back. Her instincts screaming at her to turn around and run. Her body listened to it, already turning itself on her heels. Someone then grabbed her by the shoulders and dark brown eyes locked into hers; Finn. His mouth was moving, but no sound came out. Behind her there was another roar of fire and heat, making her gasp and flinch in fright. Slowly Finn's face was replaced by Javik's, who's eyes were hollow and the sticky blood on the side of his head a sharp contrast to this eerily pale and greyish skin.

With sudden strength, she tore herself from his grasp and ran. Feet digging into the earth, propelling her forward as she pushed through the crowd stumbling and staggering. Then a strong hand grabbed hers and pulled her along, it was Han. He pulled her away from Ythriik, where the Festival went on undisturbed, without looking over his shoulder to her. When the Falcon came in sight she let go of him, falling to her knees in a mess of tears and snot.

"Han, I killed them," she choked out.

"Easy, take it easy," Han's gruff voice whispered to her as he knelt down beside her with a hand on her back. Ripley felt the earth tremble underneath her hands of running footfalls before her ears could pick of the sound. But they remained on a distance.

"I killed them, Han!" She screamed, clenching her eyes shut as she balled her hands into fists, tearing out the grass. "I killed them. Everyone is dead because I was too cowardly to do something," she hoarsely whispered and sobbed.

"You are not a coward," the older man sternly snapped back. Han Solo had no knowledge of what she was talking about, but he surely had an inkling. "I am sure of it that you couldn't do anything about."

All those villagers; mothers, children and fathers. Javik, Sha'li, Aleshia and the rest of the settlers. They were dead because of her. Her bane of existence.

"But I should have tried, tried to help them and I _didn't_ ," Ripley cried, her voice growing softer in volume. "I am a monster."

"You are not a monster for surviving. I don't know what you did before we met, but you have this life now. Start anew and be better than you were. Be better than this."

Ripley looked up, vision blurred because of the tears but she managed to focus on Han Solo, who was now kneeling in front of her. He was staring at her with determination in his sharp gaze, even though he smelled of alcohol, and slowly rose from his kneeling position to a standing and held out his hand. Ripley stared at it.

The pain of her actions was still there, present and raw and bare for everyone here now to see. She was embarrassed about it, but knew she shouldn't be. But it meant that she was not a Stormtrooper, drilled to be ruthless, but a human being. If she wanted to be human, she had to embrace the everything that came with it.

With an enormous amount of courage she took his hand, allowing to be pulled up. Not only physically this time, but also mentally. She took a deep breath when she felt the ground underneath her feet. Turning around, a fluster on her cheeks, she opened her mouth to apologize to the rest for her antics, rigidness and everything that might have hurt them. But Ripley did not have the chance for Poe had pulled her into a tight hug and whispered in her ear that they were going to kick the First Order's butt.

Ripley liked that.

* * *

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	10. Chapter 09

**Here you go ;) Next chapter will be following the main plot again, sort of. With a few loops. How do you people like it so far? Feedback is appreciated!**

* * *

Chapter 09

"I see you are working on it again."

Ripley looked up and over her shoulder to see Poe walking towards her little spot at the edge of the cliff. Rey's staff was on her lap, the middle section opened up and wires protruding out of it. She shifted a bit when he sat down on a rock next to her and focused her gaze on her work, suddenly very self-conscious and aware of her actions of the day before.

"Didn't think anyone would be up yet," she murmured and split a few wires with deft hands, tying them together in a different way than before. She pressed a button on the handle, nothing happened and she sighed. Untying the wires.

It was barely dawn. Some stars still littered the sky that was slowly turning from the inkish black into a type of blue.

"No one else is. I had to grab some water, then I noticed you and the staff gone.."

"So you came to check if I didn't leave?" Ripley cut him off sharply and looked up at him from her spot on the grass next to his rock. His dark brown eyes were almost black in the absence of decent lighting, but calm. Instantly realizing her intonation was quite rude Ripley tore her eyes away from him and back to the staff on her lap.

"Sorry, I just.." she sighed and felt her shoulders go slightly lax. She felt a hand clasping the one nearest to Poe. It was warm.

"I know," he simply said, his voice soft.

Ripley reached up and placed her hand over his, then they clasped each other. His was larger than ears, a bit more calloused due to his lifestyle, but comforting. A thumb gently brushed her knuckles, back and forth. Then she slowly felt her hand being lifted and her eyes tracked it. His was looking at her as his breath was warm on the skin of her hand but made the hairs on her arm stand on end anyway. Ripley felt her stomach churn in a not so awful way..

"Hey, have you seen my staff?"

Instantly the two flinched, hands were let go and her cheeks burnt like someone had rubbed lava over them. She took a second to regain herself and not to feel caught. Nothing happened right? They were just holding hands..

"Yeah, I got it here!" She called back and the grass rustled when Rey approached and plumped down next to her.

"What are you doing with it?" The desert girl asked, oblivious to the fading redness of Ripley's cheeks or Poe rubbing the back of his neck before he excused himself and left while murmuring something about food.

"I'm trying to improve it. It's a electro staff from a IG-100 Magnaguards of the Separatist State," Ripley glanced up to see Rey having a confused look. "It's a type of droid." The girl then nodded, understanding it.

"I hope to make the electric ends work again. That will give it a nice kick," Ripley said as she twisted the wires together again, but then in another order.

Suddenly it gave a buzz, just a tiny one and it was over just as quickly. But it was a good sign. Ripley tightened the wires, adjusting them and pressed the button on the handle. It flickered and buzzed like a drunken humblebee, the ends lighting up as electricity coursed through it. After a few seconds the buzz was continuous and she handed the staff over to Rey who was staring in awe at it.

"Here you go," Ripley chuckled, proud of her work and because of Rey's look in her eyes. It was endearing. "No one will be able to get close to you now."

The staff buzzed almost like a lightsabre as the girl twirled it a few times in her hands as best as she could while seated, then Rey switched it off. She did not take her eyes off her weapon when she murmured.

"That is so awesome.." Rey finally glanced at her, the expression in her face warming . "Thank you."

Ripley merely grinned back at her.

* * *

"God damn.." Finn cursed and brought his hands to his face, breathing heavily through his nose to compose himself. "How can you win! I've been playing this game longer than you have!"

Rey sat back in her chair, crossing her arms with a smirk on her face. Her own team of monsters were cheering, screeching and holding up their arms whilst Finn's side of the battlefield was littered with the corpses of his.

"That's for me to you and for you to guess," she stood up from her seat and stretched. Her gaze and Ripley's met, the desert girl winked causing Ripley to shake her head with an amused chuckle as she focused her attention back on the blaster in her lap. She found that modifying everyone's guns proved to be quite relaxing and it kept her busy.

Han was making a final run of supplies with Poe and Chewbacca, not that he was paranoid (his own words) but just to make sure. Leaving the three of them and BB-8 to run the ship and prepare for take-off. Which they did in like half an hour, allowing some recreational time.

"You know," she started when Finn slumped down next to her. "You should really be better at the game, given the circumstances." Her eyes met his for a brief moment. The guy sighed and leaned back.

"I know, I just.. can't seem to get it. My tactics don't just work on this stupid game."

"Perhaps you are over-thinking it? Maybe it should be more played on instinct than strategically correct. That what you did with the squad anyway, and that always worked out." She murmured as she poked the insides of the blaster with a screwdriver. Smiling when something flicked inside of it. She then closed it up and laid it down on the cushion next to her.

"Perhaps," Finn repeated her slowly, thoughts mulling.

Later Ripley managed to get her hands on Chewbacca's bowcaster and was tinkering away with it as they were travelling to Takodana, where someone (according to Han) could help them to get a clean ship that the First Order could not track. Rey was getting more and more acquainted with the ship and knowing the ins and outs, which Han Solo somehow seemed to appreciate but didn't quite show it, though everyone knew he did. What Finn and Poe were doing, Ripley did not know.

Her small room on the Falcon merely consisted out of two bunkbeds, one for her and one for Rey. The Falcon's capacity was actually four, but Han had made some accommodations that all six of them had a place to sleep, which meant sharing rooms. Ripley did not mind, she liked Rey even though she talked a lot when being enthusiastic about something.

' _Is this what having a little sister feels like? Or family at all?_ '

Ripley paused her tinkering with the bowcaster and looked up at the bare dark durasteel wall in front of her, surprised by her own train of thoughts and the pulling of her heart strings. This mixed up bunch they all were was as close to family as it would ever get. Even though they had all known each other for a short time they were close, she felt it inside of her. Though describing what it was _exactly_ , was hard.

Her eyes shot to the door when Rey came in, smelling clean and wearing a comfy shirt and pants. Wet hair loose around her face. The girl paused for a bit, noticing Ripley but quickly resumed her stride and plopped down on her own bed next to Ripley's, she was beaming right at her and did not take her eyes off her. It made Ripley uncomfortable.

"Did something just happened?" Ripley asked. "You look like you've had the best shit of your life."

Rey just shrugged. "Nah," she merely said and not elaborate.

' _Fine, don't share your thoughts,_ ' Ripley thought and stood up, placing the Bowcaster against the wall next to the beds in a small corner, making a mental note to return it to Chewbacca when he was awake. Rey was still beaming by the way.

"Rey, something is happening inside your head and I don't like it. Whatever your thinking; share it or drop it and don't just.. stare at me like that it's creepy," Ripley snapped a bit irritated. She kicked off her boots and shook her jacket off her shoulders, folding it neatly and hanging it in the locker.

"Have you ever liked someone?"

Ripley eyed the corner in her peripheral vision as she continued to undress to her smalls, which were designed to be practical for combat instead of fashionable. She was comfortable with her limited amount of clothing, having lived with Stormtroopers and shared dressing rooms did that to a person.

"Well, I like you but I have a feeling that is not what you mean," she said and walked over to her bed, sitting down on it and released her blond hair from its ponytail. The locks tickled her bare shoulders. Rey rolled her eyes as if saying 'obviously'.

"No I mean, _like_ as in fancying someone."

Ripley stared at the girl, mind blank. "Are you?"

Rey suddenly grew flustered and stammered an unconvincing no, causing Ripley to chuckle. "Well if you are and want my love advice I don't have any, sorry."

"I find that hard to believe," Rey snorted with a hint of amusement.

"Take it how you want, but it's true," Ripley said and crawled below her blankets and turned off the lights, succumbing the room to darkness. "Now if you don't mind I want to have some shut-eye before we hit Takodana, I suggest you do the same."

There was a rustling of sheets and finally a sigh, which was slightly unsatisfied. Ripley did not know what Rey meant with her question but now thinking about it in silence made her a bit uneasy. It wasn't frowned upon in the First Order, _liking_ someone, but it wasn't encouraged either. She have had her infatuations, a flutter of the heart when someone came in the room, but that was it. It wasn't practical in the life of Stormtrooper so she never gave it much thought.

' _It's not practical. You've already accepted that,_ ' a little voice inside her said. But did she truly?

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